Ithilien Rangers
by TolkienScribe
Summary: Legolas and his fellow Rangers continue their journey from Rohan to Gondor, but they must now adapt to a completely different type of lifestyle. A story of court games, religious cults and an unexpected friendship beneath the boughs of Ithilien Forest.
1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

**Disclaimer:** Tolkien's work do not belong to me. Plotlines and OCs are mine.

**This is not romance. Kindly respect this viewpoint.**

**Explanations:**

This is actually a sequel to my story "Over Time We Are Brothers". The story was nearly complete (40 chapters with plenty followers) but a hacker got into my account and deleted the chapters one by one and I had no backup. I am restarting it but it will be a while before it is completed.

While this is the sequel, there is not really a need to read that one to understand this one because I will try to explain the storyline accordingly.

**Introduction:  
**

A year passed by since the War of the Ring. Eryn Lasgelen was starting to thrive after the destruction of Dol Guldur, making the elves enjoy their well-earned freedom. Still bathed in the blissfulness of the downfall of the Dark Lord and the consequent victory, there was not much for the elves to worry.

Legolas, however, was a little concerned of hearing the absence of the sons of Elrond, who seem to have taken off without telling anyone. No one knew their whereabouts but unbeknownst to them all, the twins had visited Legolas, telling them they had something to do in the West, promising to return in two years. Legolas held them to that promise.

Worrying letters arrived from Aragorn and later from Éowyn on Rohan and its king until finally they asked him to visit the lands and see if he could be of any use. Perhaps Éomer would accept his help if he would not take it from any other. Slightly unsure of the plan but willing to go along with it, Legolas accepted the idea and reached Rohan with his company.

Series of events took place one after another and what misgivings the Elven Prince and the Rohirric King were weathered down bit by bit. The impossible task of getting the kingdom back on its feet was taken care of, and amongst the work and the daily routine, the ground was leveled for the foundation of friendship. Months passed by and at last, before the first snow came, Legolas and his company took their leave. And where they met nearly as adversaries, they parted as friends.

I have not explained everything, preferring to leave it for this story.

Enjoy. :)

**~S~**

**Prologue:**

_The plains of Gondor,_

"The stars are bright tonight." Legolas noted, drawing his knees close to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. Faramir stoked the fire, sitting across him, wrapped in his own cloak.

"Aye," Faramir agreed, glancing up. "That is what I love the most about my work. I spend more time outdoors than I ever do in buildings made of stone or wood."

"Although, I am guessing buildings will now give you a completely different meaning." Legolas suggested, smiling at the Ranger sitting across him. Faramir caught the hidden meaning and smiled again.

"Éowyn and Elboron both will have a special place in my heart. I will always go back to where they are."

A comfortable silence fell between them and they both gazed into the fire. They had not cooked anything that night, preferring to eat the hard bread and the nuts they had brought with them. Meat sticks that the Rohirrim usually kept in their supplies was something they both abhorred, so neither of them carried that. Bread with salt and water with a little bit of nuts was enough for the night. It was bitterly cold and Faramir felt that they could risk a fire. Legolas involuntarily shivered and drew his cloak closer around him. Across him, Faramir stifled a smile.

"Smile all you like." Legolas told him dryly, his voice still a bit friendly. "Even elves feel the cold."

Faramir only shook his head.

"It is not even fully cold yet."

"I do not understand it. I have survived the harshest winters that my forest could give me, the most terrible of blizzards in the shades of a tree's roots but I cannot control my chills in this cold wind."

"Your body reacts differently to different places." Faramir said. "I find summers in Minas Tirith quiet pleasant but a summer in Dol Amroth can leave me sweating profusely, even when my cousins swear that summers by the sea are most pleasant." Faramir shook his head again. "I will never believe them."

They settled back to quiet again. Their horses stood close by, tethered. Their breathing was even, catching up to sleep they needed. Close to them was a cluster of gnarled, knobby rocks from where they heard occasional hoots and light cries.

"Your hawk is not planning on resting any time soon, is she?" Faramir asked, glancing over to the rocks, where a hawk having silver feathers instead of gold sat, crooning softly as she cleaned her wings and straightened her feathers.

"I suppose not." Legolas said. Turning slightly while keeping his weight balanced by putting on hand on the damp soil beneath him, he said in Sindarin, _"Go and get some rest, Silverclaw. I will need you in the morning." _

The hawk only crooned again and ignored him.

"_Arrogant bird." _Legolas muttered under his breath before turning back to the man when he heard him chuckle.

"She is stubborn."

"Something that I usually do not encourage in our hawks." Legolas replied. Then he fell silent before he spoke up again. "So tell me, Faramir. What can you tell me of these… religious cults?"

"Is there something from the meeting that was left to be explained?" Faramir asked, confused by the question, but Legolas shook his head.

"I understood fine but I want to know what you know about these cults from experience. What are they? Who are they? And what do you know about them from your travels?"

Faramir frowned as he stared into the campfire, his face caught in fiery red glow.

"To be honest, there is not much to tell you about them." Faramir said at last. "These people are far from our larger towns and cities. They are scattered across an area of land, and they are the closest inhabitants to the borders we share with Mordor. That is partial reason for the cult, I suppose. I admit I never truly gave them much of my attention but when I did, they worried me. Worshipping the fell creatures like orcs and such… it never sat well with me. Mostly we let them be, for they caused no harm or unrest and they did not bear us ill will."

"So why the sudden attention?"

"Actually, Aragorn and I have been speaking about it longer than we made mention of him to you." Faramir admitted. "When my father was the Steward, he usually laughed off whatever concerns I expressed and while my brother was much kinder in his response, he thought the same as the Steward my father."

"Then why take an action of it now?"

Faramir sighed and rubbed his forehead.

"I am just not comfortable by the idea that they are still thriving there, so close to the borders of Mordor when they know we have defeated the Enemy. Cults die out after they lose their purpose. So why did they not? If anything, they grow stronger. And it worried me. I expressed my worries to Aragorn when he first came to office but he told me to wait and see. Two years have passed by since and I see no change in them. Aragorn then decided to send me and investigate." Faramir then smiled wryly. "Although, I must tell you they will not be kind when they know who I am."

"Why is that?"

"I… kept sending what men I could spare now and then to keep an eye on them. The Enemy I did not trust and these cults I trusted even less. Orcs and such could easily take advantage of their fear and devotion, however twisted it may be, to have them as spies and turn against us. A thorn that is still growing is still a danger before it reaches its full size. I do hope you do not mind coming with me." Faramir added, looking at Legolas. "It would help if you become familiar with the terrain and the people of Gondor. I also felt that I needed hands more capable than my Rangers and I could only think of you."

"I do not mind." Legolas said. He felt significantly warmer now that the fire was in flames with full force and the cloak was close around him. He straightened out his legs and leaned back, resting his weight on the palms of his hands. His cloak spread with the movement. "Dorián has been far too dreamy-eyed and wistful for the past few weeks. It would not hurt to have something to do before his wedding. Anything to escape the betrothed couple." Legolas added, making Faramir laugh.

They settled into silence for a while until Faramir stirred.

"One of us should get some rest. It will do neither of us any good is we awake late tomorrow."

"You rest and I will take the first watch." Legolas interrupted as soon as Faramir opened his mouth again to speak. "It is reasonable. I am fresher than you."

"Alright," Faramir conceded.

The Ithilien Ranger was just getting up when the air seemed heavier. The night seemed darker and the stars seemed to shine more dimly than before. The fire was burning low.

Elf and man exchanged glances. Faramir continued his motion to stand, casually pulling out his bow and placing an arrow on it. Legolas got up as well, in an ordinary manner. There was something sinister about the situation. The fire burned lower still, casting long shadows. The horses snorted loudly, feeling the unease radiating off their masters. Silverclaw was letting out a low threatening croon.

"Something is out there." Legolas said quietly, placing an arrow on his own bow. Raising his voice, he said, "Who goes there?"

There was no reply. The wind blew, feeling heavy and bitterly cold as it did.

"Who dares approach our camp?" Legolas tried again.

There was large gust of wind, so forceful that the campfire blew out till it was reduced to burning embers and they were left in the dark. The heard Silverclaw give a cry, this time more of fear and anticipation that of challenge.

"I am nearly blind in the dark." Faramir spoke softly. Legolas did not reply but searched with his eyes across the plains without moving his head too much. He saw nothing out of the ordinary, but his instincts tugged on him, telling him he was missing something.

That was when they heard a shrill shriek. Silverclaw leapt into the air, her wings fanned out and her silver wings catching the moonlight. She attacked a large form rising from the grass and the fight was hard for Legolas to make out what the figure was.

Instincts made Faramir raise his bow and shoot. Legolas did the same, slightly impressed by the man's ability to pinpoint where their opponent was in spite of unable to see too well in the dark. Silverclaw, he guessed, Faramir could see. But that was the least of his problems. With a frustrated sound, the opponent batted Silverclaw away. The hawk flew through the air before hitting the ground with a pained cry. Quickly unsheathing his twin blades and hearing Faramir take out his sword, they readied themselves for a duel. Legolas stepped forward first but he was immediately batted away with enough force to cause him to hit the ground breathless. He lost hold of his twin blades in the fall.

Something was not right, he thought in a daze and he watched Faramir retreated slightly, a sword in hand as the opponent advanced. There was something drastically wrong here. That force was not the kind a man would possess and no elf could change the surroundings around him to something of a darker nature.

"Ai Elbereth." He breathed, getting up on fours before standing completely upright. The daze of the fall had now disappeared, quickly being replaced by understanding and horror. His breathed words had the same effect as it always did. The stars shone a little brightly and the air seemed lighter. In the light, he was able to tell more of their opponent while no mortal would have found the difference in the meager increase of light. The dark figure was indeed dark and one hand held a naked dagger. Immediately, Legolas was galvanized to action.

"Faramir, no! It is not what it seems! Get back!" Speed was his friend and he was able to push Faramir out of the way as the figure lunged forward.

Legolas gasped and convulsed at the pain radiating from his side. He felt cold then agonizing warmth filled him. Through the haze of his pain, he saw Faramir grab hold of his shoulders and shout something at him but the darkness threatened to overtake him and he surrendered to it.

Faramir looked up from the limp body of the elf, his sword forgotten.

"What are you?" He hissed. The figure pushed forward, bringing its face close to the Steward's until they were inches apart and Faramir paled.

"It-it cannot be…" Faramir said, fear grabbing hold of his heart. "Yo-you were s-su-sup-supposed to be dead."

The figure placed one wasted hand on Faramir's shoulder and gave a loud scream.

**~S~**

**Author's Note:**

List of OCs is on my profile.

That button down there looks lonely. Talk to it, please? :)


	2. In Time of Peace

**Chapter 1**

There was silence surrounding them. Thranduil loosened his reins, letting his horse move on its own accord. Their horses were breathing softly, their hooves making the sound of 'clip clop' over the pebbles hidden deep in the grass. The pebbles only bore evidence of a pathway leading to where they wanted to go. There was a time when they had kept the pathways free of grass but time had passed and the grass went wild. They came upon a wide clearing, where Thranduil looked up. The trees had not changed much in the Age since they had abandoned it, save for the ruined outposts that once held attentive sentries. The walls that surrounded the city were in ruins, stones clustered in lumps and covered with moss. Few sections of the walls were still standing and even those were in danger of crumbling.

One of the elves pushed forward to ride just beside Thranduil. He pulled off his hood, letting loose braided black hair. "These are the moments when I realize the severity of our immortality," he said in a low voice, gazing around him. "When the world ages around us and we are untouched by time."

Thranduil pulled off his hood as well, his golden hair gleaming. Behind him, the other elves did the same. They had lived a long while in their forest, and the overwhelming silence had a tendency of being followed by an ambush. It was better to have their vision unhindered.

Their horses slowed down even more so as they passed through the clearing that once was an entrance to their city. Then came the signs of war. Signs of escape. The buildings that the orcs had once set fire too were nothing more than charred, disintegrating remains. Among these buildings were the stables and the guardhouses. Thranduil looked behind him to see some of his guards guide their horses towards those remains.

"_Do not be too easy here in this place." _Thranduil cautioned. _"Keep your wits about you and your weapons at hand."_

The elves nodded in reply.

They were entering the city's inner rings, where there were once marketplaces and bathing talans. Nothing remained in these areas, so they only nudged their horses to go faster until they entered the innermost rings where there once were homes.

It was the most depressing part of the city. The homes were in ruins, with no ceilings and rotten wood. The stench of rot was strong, because there were heavy rains in Eryn Lasgelen in summer and harsh snows in winters. Without maintenance, the water had pooled and ruined the wood even more so.

His friend stopped his horse at the sight on one said ruin, "That was once my home." He said quietly. "I am going to take a look."

"Fion, you do not need to."

"Perhaps, but it was still my home."

Fion dismounted and made for the tree. Thranduil called out after him, _"Be careful. I doubt the steps will hold after so long." _Fion waved his hand over his shoulder to indicate he heard.

Behind him the ellyn were also dismounting, many of them wandering this way and that, going to their old homes and the ruined places they used as haunts. Thranduil himself kept mounted, till he reached the center of the city.

There was once a large wide structure standing at the center of the city, containing a set of buildings, from council rooms, a throne room, dining halls, kitchens and the study rooms for him and his father, though they both preferred to have company while they worked and thus used only one. There had once been their living quarters as well in these structures. Looking at it now, Thranduil could honestly not recognize it. The wood had taken on a strange greenish hue from algae creeping up on it. There was no roof, and most of the walls were missing or partially gone. The doors that opened into this wide compound were in ruins, one still hanging from its hinges and the other lying on the platform, covered in plants. The steps leading up to the platform and the entrance to the compound were weathered down, with plants finding way to grow in between the cracks. Thranduil dismounted his stallion, patting his neck before throwing the reins back on his saddle. His gaze was still on what once had been his home.

The steps groaned and shifted as he cautiously set his feet on them. He moved slowly, not wanting to slip. Any injury on these treacherous steps could even cause a broken spine and he did not wish such a fate for himself.

When he went through the entrance, the stench of rot was great. Cities made of stone would not age as horribly as those mostly made from wood. Here, things festered and other plants and such would grow on the festering wood. What wood would remain intact would eventually be taken over by termites. Here in the forest, animals and plants tend to learn to live off such ruins.

The corridors were mostly dark, though many of the sections allowed sunshine to come through. The rugs that once spread over the floors of the corridors were no longer there, except perhaps for some scraps of fabric he could still see in nooks and crannies.

A part of flooring gave way under his foot but Thranduil grabbed himself in time. He mentally chided himself, realizing that he should have had someone accompany him when he wanted to enter the compound but memories had taken hold of him. This was where he was wed, where Legolas was born and spent his childhood. This had been their first refuge and where Oropher had become king before history took control. Below the flooring were cellars and Thranduil had no wish to fall into those dank and murky place, especially since he had no idea if he could leave it through the doors that connected the cellars to the upper floors. He suspected most of them were blocked already.

He continued on, passing by some rooms which he did not spare so much as a cursory glance. These were just the waiting rooms for guests and council rooms for meetings. Deeper into the compound, he finally came to a blocked door that he knew led to a garden centered in between all the buildings. He pressed his hand against it lightly before stepping back and kicking the door down. It gave way without much protest and Thranduil blinked for a moment in the sharpness of sunshine.

The garden that once was so well maintained had grown wild in their absence. The benches were buried in climbing plants, the grass had grown wild, and the bushes were out of proportions. It was a like a game of conquest in the garden, seeing which plant could dominate all others. Pity, since it was here he had come to realize he loved his future wife.

Tearing his eyes away, he went down the steps and crossed the garden, making straight for the building that held the study he shared with his father.

When he entered it, he realized it was moderately more preserved. The orcs had likely left it well enough alone, since they did not know how to read or write, though if they could they would have benefited from the documents that were there. Many of those were very important at the time, but they had been in haste and could not get rid of it completely.

Emotion took hold of him when he entered the study, his eyes glancing over the desk that once been his father's. His lower lips trembled slightly before he hardened his jaw. Too many years passed and his grief over his father's death had always remained fresh.

The carpet here was in a better shape than the ones gracing the corridors, though parts of it seemed to have been… eaten. He suspected some small rodent found refuge in the room. Sure enough, as soon as he opened one of the drawers of his own desk, he came face-to-face with a frightened mouse that leaped out just as soon as he moved the drawer.

"_I never did like my time here." _He said to it dryly. _"And I certainly do not mean to spend time here. Please, by all means."_

Leaving the mouse and her nest of little ones in piece, he shifted around, till he found some trinkets he had once missed. He went over to what once was Thorontur's desk, who was his father's advisor before becoming his. He found a ring and an amber paperweight that Thorontur had been fond of using. Placing it in a satchel he was carrying it with him, he finally went over to his father's desk. There were more remains of parchment than anything else, since his father had never been one to carry some sort of trinket or a small object with him. At least, not that he could remember. His thoughts changed however, when he came upon an ornate metal box, so small that it did not even cover half of his palm, coming out of one of the drawers. He opened it, only to find a chain with a white crystal for a pendant. The chain was small enough to settle the crystal of the base of one's throat. He fingered the silver chain lightly. He knew what it was. It used to belong to his mother. His parents had been jesting with one another on the day of Doriath's Sacking. His father had ultimately taken the necklace from his mother and pocketed it with wink directed at him. They had stayed at the guardhouse that night, only to awaken to warnings of an invasion and to find his mother burning in their house. He had not known his father still kept it. He presumed he had lost it since.

He pocketed it also, before leaving the study. This time when he entered the garden, he went towards the living quarters. He came across his son's room first, finding a wooden horse toy pushed behind the door. He stared down at it in amusement but decided to leave it be. The living quarters were in worse shape, possibly because the orcs decided to look around for any elf left behind. And judging from the darkened stains on the floor, maybe someone did. He went on to his own rooms, finding scraps of old fabric scattered on the floor. He went to one corner of the room, picking up the plank to find that one hidden chest he and Arodien kept under there. Times were hard and they had suspected something like an invasion. So they hid a chest with their prized treasures. He opened it, since they did not bother with keys. Among the various materials in there, he found his wife's rings and some jewelry he had gifted to her. Caught by memory, he placed it also in his satchel. He got up and threw one last look around his room before leaving. Oropher's room was completely tossed and destroyed, and he was unable to go into it. So he left it be and decided to leave the compound.

When he stepped outside, he found none of his company. He turned and went for Fion's home, easily climbing up in spite of the flimsy steps.

"Fion?"

"In here."

He entered in the lounge, where the floor had broken through several places and the tree's branches grew into it. He found a guard waiting in the kitchen, and going deeper, he found Fion standing in his bedroom… or what was left of it.

"They had taken almost everything." Fion said, still looking around. "All of our valuables here are gone. No doubt Sauron found use of them. He could change faces but he needed gold to win over the men of the West before handing them their rings."

"We are more blessed than he." Thranduil answered. "We will have gold aplenty when we pass from here, in Valinor. He, on the other hand, sacrificed his very spirit for his lust for power. Come. Let us go."

Fion stared at him for a while before nodding slowly. He walked passed him, and Thranduil touched his shoulder lightly in an attempt to give him some peace. Together, all three of them left the house.

No sooner did Thranduil place one foot onto the first step of the failing stair did it give way under him. His heart leaped into his throat and he had no time to even grab onto something. Then, as he fell, he was abruptly stopped with a painful jerk of his right shoulder as someone grabbed onto his right hand.

"_Hold on, Sire!" _

He dangled for a moment before being pulled up. Once he reached blessed sound floor, he let go and breathed in deeply.

"_Thranduil, are you alright?" _Fion asked, bending down and touching his shoulder lightly. Thranduil gestured affirmative. He then turned and looked at the guard who had caught his hand just in time. _"Thank you." _He said to the ellon, but the guard only shook his head.

"_It worries me, Sire." _He said, placing his hand on the bark of the tree. _"Did you notice? The tree did not move to help."_

That was when they realized that he was right. Trees that were friends of elves responded quickly to their plight. These trees were once their friends, their protectors. It had been their warning that had given them enough time to escape the city and make their ways to his Halls, which had still been building at the time. But now the trees were silent. When the orcs took this part of the forest, the trees had become twisted and dark in nature. But since the Dark Lord had been defeated… none of these trees responded to elven calls. They had lost their dark nature, but with it they had become silent forever. It was a hard reality for the elves to face. Their forest had been alive with them, but now they were losing the forest trees, unable to connect with them, unable to call to them.

The city truly was dead as it seemed.

Shaking the feeling, Thranduil got up. "Let us go and leave this place." Thranduil said quietly. They made their way down the steps, being more careful than they had been when they were going up.

"Spiders!"

A shout came from one of the homes and they immediately pulled out their weapons. Thranduil unsheathed his sword and they warily made way to the ruined house. Three Rangers came running out of it, all with loaded bows.

"Well?" Fion demanded, looking up at his fellow comrades.

"There are spiders' eggs here." One of them called down. "We just killed the larger ones, but should we do about the eggs?"

"Burn down the entire the structure." Thranduil answered, sheathing his sword. "The rest of you, go and check if there are spiders in the rest of these ruins. Wherever you find them, burn them. I do not want to face another generation of spiders wreaking havoc in our forest."

It took them some two to three hours to search the entire city. They did, in fact, find many spider eggs clustered in corners and protected with spider webs. Cutting the webs was a hard task but they were soon able to ready small fire in such places. Soon fires began to spread. Thranduil stood with his fellow elves, watching in silence as the flames raised high in the air. When he finally heard the groaning of structure before it fell with a loud crash, he turned to face his company.

"Let us go."

They returned to their horses and mounted. Thranduil threw the ruined city one last glance before turning his horse around and pushing it onto a gallop. After a little more than half an hour, they had reached Thranduil's Halls.

It looked more like a fortress than it did as a place for a city hidden in the mountains. The walls were thick and high, reinforced with enchantments laid one over the other. The gates were just as tall, with leaves made of metal decorating it. The older gates had broken in the war and these were new, a gift from the dwarves. The wardens shouted to one another, and the gates scraped open as they approached.

Thranduil passed through and stopped just near the stables, his company doing the same. He saw some of the ellyth hurry towards them, afraid for news but for once, Thranduil was thankful that none of his company was hurt or killed. His company started to scatter and wander off. Thranduil took his satchel from his horse's saddle before letting him go with the grooms.

"Come," Fion said, waiting for him. "Let us go and see if Thorontur was actually able to keep the Rangers busy."

"You have little trust in him."

"Come now," Fion protested, laughter in his voice. "He is a Warrior. How can I trust him?"

"I am a Warrior too." Thranduil told him dryly.

"Right, but you are king."

"And of course that would make sense."

"Of course it does."

They made their way up to the steps leading into the halls. The sudden darkness of the corridor was followed by brightly lit halls with vaulted ceiling. The lanterns hung from the ceiling, some were attached with the walls. The corridors were not always walled on either side with the mountain rocks, so they had placed ornate fences wherever the walls were not. Once inside, Thranduil's Halls were breathtaking to view. With the winding corridors and ornate fences, the brightly lit halls and the light air coming from the air shafts etched into the walls, the beauty of the halls was unmatched. They hung no tapestry here, for the elves of Eryn Lasgelen preferred to etch directly into rock. So even as he passed through the corridors, he caught glimpses of scenery carved into rock of trees, grass and animals that stretched over the walls.

"Do you hear that?" Fion asked, frowning. Thranduil cocked his head to a side and listened. Sure enough, he could hear the sounds of tinkering and hammering. "We should go and see." Thranduil replied after a nod.

When they made their way up over the staircases and pathways, they finally came to an astonishing sight. They found the advisor, calmly sitting on a comfortable chair with a book on his lap, drinking from a crystal goblet. Thorontur was resting his feet on a footstool. In front of him were ellyn, handling masonry tools as they chipped away on the mountain rock.

"Thorontur," Thranduil greeted the elf as he came to him.

"You are early." Thorontur said casually, flipping through the pages. "How was your visit to our old living haunts?"

"It went well. What are you doing?"

"Looking after some repairs that needed to be done. The orcs' invasion into your Halls had taken a heavy toll on some of these walls. The explosions had done none of them any good. They are looking for ways to strengthen them."

"Where are the Rangers?" Fion asked.

Thorontur smirked.

"Let us hear it," Thranduil said, mock-wearily as soon as he spotted the smirk. "Tell me what the Rangers had done in my absence."

"Oh, do not worry. They have been at their utmost best behavior."

"Really?"

"Really."

"I do not believe you."

Thorontur pointed his finger upward. "Take a look."

Thranduil and Fion looked. Sure enough, on a wooden makeshift life with smaller lanterns to see, were numerous Rangers wearing old clothes as they tinkered away under the stonemason's stern gaze.

"Stonemasons are very good with what they do." Thorontur said smugly. "And they cannot tolerate any mistakes done to their beautiful designs. I knew they would stay meek as lambs if I placed them under their care."

Fion let out a snort. Thranduil grinned.

"How long have they been working?"

"Almost immediately after you left."

"That must be good four hours."

"And I can assure you I never enjoyed the peace and quiet more." Thorontur said, reclining back on his chair.

"There must be at least thirty or forty Rangers up there." Fion said, peering up. "And I think Hanon is up there as well."

Thranduil stifled a guffaw of laughter. The last thing he wanted was to alert the Rangers of his presence. "Really?"

"I think so."

"I placed all the Rangers most well-known for mischief on hard tasks."

"I do not see Legolas and Dorián up there." Fion said, narrowing his eyes.

"And where," Thranduil asked, "are my son and his friend?"

This time Thorontur grinned widely.

"Oh do not worry. I placed them in a place where they will actually behave. You have my word on it."

oOo

There was peace and quiet in the library. One cannot even hear the rustle of papers turning in a book, because anyone reading there took care not to make even the slightest noise. It was lit with hanging lanterns. The library was facing the side of the mountain, so the windows opened into balconies. The air was crisp and chilly, but not too harsh to make it uncomfortable. There were couches by the fire and cushions near the bookshelves for any who preferred to sit on the floor to read. At both end of the library, staircases led up to the second level full of bookshelves, where most of the scholarly elves spent their time.

At one such bookshelf where only the scholars or their students would go, there were two elves working to place the books back on the shelves. One was golden-haired and blue-eyed, slim in figure with an air of mischief about him. the other was younger and black-haired with gray eyes, slightly more wider around the shoulder but just as slim in figure. He too possessed the same air. Both looked considerably chastised.

"I do not know why we are the ones stuck here while the others do masonry work." The golden-haired complained, standing comfortably on a ladder while he placed the books back on the shelves that his friend was passing him.

"I think it had something to do with the fact that we decided to steal some of the tarts the cook had been working hard on in the morning, Legolas."

"A small offence." Legolas said, patting his stomach fondly before taking the books his friend held out for him. "We still should not be stuck here."

"I think Thorontur knew we would not try to cause any trouble here."

"You are right." Legolas said thoughtfully. "In that case, Dorián, this is your fault."

"My fault!"

"Of course! You just had to go and be engaged to the librarian's daughter! Thorontur knew for sure we would do nothing here because of that!"

"Oh, come now. It is not as if I am marrying the librarian himself!" Dorián retorted. They heard a loud snort from behind the bookshelves. Both of them looked there curiously. Evidently, some scholar or student found Dorián's words amusing. Lowering his voice, Dorián hissed, "Why should that be a problem?"

"Because he knew that you would be on your best behavior to get into Himben's good graces so that you can marry Arodis sooner and that if I try to cause trouble, I would not have to worry about Himben because likely you will kill me first."

Dorián opened his mouth to deny it but closed it shut again without a word. Then he said, "Hm, I think Thorontur possesses a clever mind more than we give him credit for."

"Sadly, you are right. Now pass along more of those books, will you?"

Dorián struggled with a particularly large volume. "Good grief! Do they need to clear out the entire shelves, these scholars?"

"I think it has something to do with personal satisfaction." Legolas said, purposely dropping two of the books as he placed them up on the self. Dorián yelped as they fell right on his head.

"I am sorry. Can you pick them up?" Legolas asked conversationally, completely unaffected by Dorián's glare. The elf muttered something under his breath as he bent for the books. Legolas laughed.

"Picked up some Rohirric curses from Rohan's visit, have you?"

"They have an interesting vocabulary." Dorián answered. When he gave the books, he moved away so that he could not have books 'accidently' dropping on him. It did not help though, because as soon as he gave another set of books, a particularly hard one fell on his head.

"Stop it!"

"Stop what?"

"You are throwing books on me!"

"I am not!"

"Yes you are!"

"It was an accident!"

"Ha!'

"It is true!"

They heard a loud, warning cough come from behind the bookshelves. Knowing full well these scholars were capable of going to the librarian and complain to them (whereupon Thorontur will catch wind of it all and give them harder tasks to do), they piped down.

"I want to get away from here." Legolas complained. "We have done countless bookshelves already!"

"We have done only twelve."

"Come now, I am sure the librarian would not notice us gone!"

"If you endanger my betrothal, Thranduilion-" Dorián began.

"I hate being a friend." Legolas grumbled under his breath.

oOo

As soon as he had done the library tasks and the librarian dismissed, he fled. He was sure he had left Himben smirk after him but at the moment he just wanted to leave the large room. He now stood on one of the many bridges in the halls in the lower levels, enjoying a moment to himself. Dorián had already wandered away, making his own excuses.

A loud scream echoed in the vaulted Halls, followed by laughter.

Legolas leaned down, using the ornate fence as a support. He spotted one of his Rangers running from where he heard the scream, laughing like a young elfling. The Ranger scrambled up the steps, gaining heights until he reached the bridge Legolas was standing on.

"What did you do, Arandur?" Legolas asked, as the chuckling elf came to stand beside him.

"I told my wife I saw a drowned rat in one of her jams in the pantry." Arandur replied laughingly, placing his elbows on the fence like Legolas.

"Was there?"

"No!" Arandur shook his head, laughing. "But it was amusing to watch."

No sooner had he said those words, an elleth appeared from the same direction Arandur had made his appearance. She was very tall, and slender and Legolas could see the outrage even from the distance.

"I have to go! Misguide her for me!" Arandur said, clapping Legolas on the shoulder. At that moment the elleth raised her eyes and spotted them.

"Arandur, you horrid beast! You are not getting away that easily!" She said, running. But Arandur only laughed and ran for the corridors, disappearing in one of the smaller ones. She climbed onto the bridge and spotted him alone by the fence.

"Where did he go?"

Wordlessly, Legolas pointed the real path that Arandur took. She immediately took off. Grinning and shaking his head, he pushed away from the fence and went to his father's study.

He opened the study door to find his father working alone at his desk.

"I heard a scream." Thranduil said, glancing up for one moment to see who it was.

"Just one of the Rangers teasing his wife," Legolas replied. "What reports are you looking at?"

"Building plans, actually." Thranduil replied, grabbing some of the parchments and raising it for his son to take. "The entrances we made for the road into our forest needed repairs from a time long before the coming of Smaug. The roads need maintenance, most of them have become too broken to be of use and many sections lead the travellers off road."

"Making roads will do no one good if we do not repair the bridge over the enchanted river."

"That is being taken care of. The plans are here, actually." Thranduil tapped his finger on the parchment he was reading. "The builders spared none of their imagination. From the looks of this, it is going to be magnificent."

Legolas glanced over the parchment. Sure enough, the bridge looked beautiful on the beige colored parchment.

"They intend to enlist the help of the dwarves. They want some of the work in between the fences to be overlaid with silver and gold."

"They do realize travellers will be using the bridge and possibly the thieves?"

Thranduil grinned. "I did not want to dampen their enthusiasm for this project. I will be looking into it regularly though."

"What else has happened?"

"I have been considering going to Lorien and meeting Celeborn." Thranduil said at last. Legolas looked up in surprise from the building plans in his hand.

"Lord Celeborn? But why?"

"I think a meeting between kin should not be amiss." Thranduil said. Legolas noted a hint of defensiveness in his father's voice. A disbelieving snort erupted from him.

"Father, you and I both know you do not go about meeting kin for the sake of kinship, much less with Lord Celeborn. What is the matter?"

"Sometimes I hate how well you know me." His father sighed, resting his back against his chair. "I am worried for him. He has not spoken to anyone or even replied to my letters ever since Lady Artanis-"

"-Galadriel"

"Lady Artanis," Thranduil stressed with a pointed look, "left. His granddaughter is in Minas Tirith, his grandsons are nowhere to be found." Legolas turned away from his father, setting books back in their shelves to hide his look of discomfort. "And he sits in his forest, cut off from the world. I doubt Lorien has kept its previous splendor. It was Lady Artanis' ring that kept it preserved in its beauty. Without her, it must be greatly diminished."

"And you worry because-"

"I worry because Celeborn is not one to give into grief or sorrow. and while I acknowledge that I have been at odds with my kin in the past Age, I will not lose him to some sorrow. and then there is this."

Thranduil picked up an open letter, the broken seal prominent at the top and bottom of its back. He passed it to him, then sat back to study his son's face closely. "Do you have anything to tell me?"

Legolas curiously ran his eyes over the letter. Then he went pale. It was addressed to him by Erestor, who was once Elrond's advisor and had been acting as the lord of Rivendell ever since Elrond's sons had gone 'missing'. Erestor was never one to write long notes, so the entire letter comprised of just a few lines.

_Legolas Greenleaf of Eryn Lasgelen,_

_You know something we do not know about Elrohir and Elladan. Glorfindel and I look forward to your arrival to Imladris._

_Regards, _

_Erestor of Imladris_

Legolas stared at the two sentences. He was stunned; he had not expected either of them to know that he knew something of the matter. He looked up to see Thranduil's expectant gaze on him.

"Well?"

"Yes," Legolas said eventually. "I do know something. Elrohir and Elladan visited Eryn Lasgelen for a few moments just to meet me before moving on."

"And what did they speak of?"

Legolas waved the letter in his hand. "I do not mean to offensive but why did you open this?"

"Because I had a right to see what Erestor wanted from my son." Thranduil said. His voice brooked no argument. "And what did they speak of?"

"To be honest, they did not tell me much. They just said that they needed to find out something for someone. And that this will be the last time they will head into the Wild. I did not ask further."

Thranduil studied his son for a long time, drumming his fingers endlessly on top of his desk.

"Very well." Thranduil said. "The same day I am to leave for Lothlorien, you will set out with a company to Imladris and speak to Glorfindel and Erestor. I trust you can handle matters yourself?"

"It should not be a problem."

"Good. Thorontur can act as reagent during the time."

"When do you plan to leave for Lorien?"

"Perhaps sometime the next month. At the moment my kingdom needs my attention."

oOo

"Many have been asking if they could build homes outside the halls." Thorontur told Thranduil the next day when they entered the study. Thranduil sat behind his desk while Thorontur stood in front him, both fists resting on his hips. "I told them I would ask you about it."

Thranduil leaned back, tapping his fingertips mindlessly on the smooth desk surface. "I do not see why not." He said at last. "The enemy has been defeated and the roads have been open for travellers once again. I have builders sketching out plans for rebuilding the bridge we had destroyed over the enchanted river. Spiders and orcs are not so great a threat as they had been in the past. How many wish to go outside?"

"Mostly the guards and archers. They had spent almost all their lives outside. I think the Rangers would like to have their headquarters built outside the same way they had done in the Second Age."

"See to it then. I have no problems with this but I think it would be best if we choose carefully where we are planning to settle. Find places closer to the halls. It would make transportations easier as well, with lesser distance to cover."

"I will see to it then."

"Anything else?"

"Yes. There are some elves who wish to set sail."

"So soon?" Thranduil asked.

"They had felt the call before but only stayed out duty. they did not wish to abandon you in such a critical time during the war."

"And these are?"

"Some of them are grooms, others are wardens. A few are ellyth, widowed during the war."

"Make preparations for them then. They are free to go." Thranduil said after a long pause. Thorontur still lingered.

"It is their time, Sire." Thorontur said. "You know we cannot ignore the call to the Sea."

"I know." Thranduil said, giving a small, strained smile. "But I have worked hard for this forest, striving it to be a place of security for them. it saddens me they no longer deem it home."

Thorontur could not make a suitable reply so he kept his silence.

oOo

The night was just like any other. The dining halls were vast, all of them being on one floor. All the doors were open so the people could mingle. Many were even lingering outside the halls, laughter echoing across the wide, deeply dug city under the mountain.

"I am beginning to feel extremely sorry for Dorián." Nimon said laughingly as he watched the Spy sulk near the banquet tables. "To have his betrothed so close but must keep away because of her overbearing father must not be easy."

"I do not think the librarian likes the thought of his daughter marrying a roughened, travel-hardened, and battle-worn Ranger." Legolas replied, leaning back on a pillar.

"Well, he should. His daughter does not mind and Dorián is the most eligible ellon there is. Well, besides you, that is."

"And I can assure you that I have no intentions for Arodis." Legolas said dryly.

"Right, right, because you already have thought of someone." A pause came in between them that started to become tense in spite of the laughter and chatter around them. "Legolas, the war has ended. Maybe you can now go and see for yourself-"

"No."

"Legolas-"

"Nimon." Legolas warned, voice become deadly quiet. "I said no."

"Are you afraid to find out something you will not like?" Nimon asked softly. Legolas only gave a sad smile.

"More than one Age, Nimon. That should be an answer enough."

What Nimon had as a reply was lost when some of the Rangers entered the floor as the musicians strike up a lively tune. Immediately, Nimon and Legolas both were pulled onto the floor. Several ellyth, most of whom were the Rangers' wives joined them. Legolas bent low in greeting in front of one such elleth, who had been widowed in the war. Out of the corner of his eye, he found Dorián get pulled into the dance. From another side, he found one of the Rangers asking Arodis for a dance. He grinned, realizing what they were up to.

The dance was fast, and required changing of partners. As one elleth passed by after another, he finally came face to face with Arodis. Giving her a wink (and making her frown in confusion), he merely passed her along until he glanced and saw Arodis came right in front of Dorián. It was strategically done, because the changing of parents occurred in such a way that the ellyn came right in front of their respective wives and he in front his first dance partner.

"Keep your partners." Hanon called out, making all of them laugh. They did not hide what they had done, and the dance was too fast for any disturbances. When the dance ended, they all broke up laughing and clapping their hands, surrounding the betrothed couple. Finally they dispersed, ignoring an irate father standing among the crowd. Legolas wandered for a while, until he felt his father's eyes on him. Sure enough, when he raised his eyes to the throne, his father was watching him with an amused expression. He made his way to him.

"I will be facing complains from my librarian tomorrow on your Rangers' antics, I am sure." He said when Legolas knelt beside him and rested his head against his knee. He sat comfortably on the steps, clasping his hands on his knees for support.

"What antics?" Legolas asked innocently. Thranduil laughed.

"Well, I can safely say that even the Warriors were amused by the display you placed and they might even be willing to help. But you did not hear that from me. And try not to irritate my librarian further."

"I do not understand his intentions." Legolas said, easily spotting Arodis who was now with her father. Both seemed to be absorbed in what looked like a heated discussion. "He had been quite willing to accept their betrothal and even bless it and now he is completely against it in a matter of few months. Arodis seems fine to the idea of marrying Dorián."

His father was silent for so long that he turned his head up to see him deep in thought.

"You know something I do not." Legolas realized.

"There are rumors spreading through the Halls." Thranduil said. "Dorián's captivity is finally sinking in and many are beginning to comprehend what just he might have gone through. I suspect Himben caught wind of these rumors."

"Well, people have to learn to keep to their own business!"

"It does not work that way." Thranduil said, touching his son's head lightly. He spoke easily, knowing full well they could not be heard over the noise. Anyone close by was not close enough to eavesdrop. "To you and your Rangers, Dorián is a friend and a comrade at arms. For the Warriors, he is a Ranger and thus exhibits a friendly rivalry with him. For Arodis, he is her betrothed. But to everyone else, he is that one Spy who was brave enough to go into Dol Guldur. His capture will always be a reason of speculation. Neither I nor you can control that. And speculation usually feeds on imagination and imagination comes when there is no knowledge of such things. To Himben, he sees a broken Ranger, likely to have waking nightmares from what he has gone through. If what I know about his daughter, this Arodis, she is something like a perfectly bloomed flower always taken care of. He does not believe they would suit."

"But-but- that is ridiculous."

"Perhaps, but you cannot dispel a father's fears so quickly. Have patience and try to leave him and his daughter be. Let Dorián sort it on his own."

"Dorián is too worried on insulting him to be of the right mind to actually find a solution to this."

"If it soothes your worry for him and his betrothed, then let me tell you Fion and Hanon are more than aware of the situation. If need be, they will step in and take matters in their own hands. I, for one, would not mind a wedding. It has been too long since we last had wedding ceremonies to grace these halls."

It was near midnight when he finally took refuge in his rooms, successfully blocking out all of his well-meaning friends. Most of them had a little too much to drink, and it was too easy for him to firmly escort them out of his rooms. He washed and changed for sleep and as he entered his bedroom he glanced once over to his desk, where Thorontur had placed some reports needing his attention. Then out of sheer habit, he went over to his bedside table and pulled out a small velvet pouch.

Legolas carefully opened it, inverting it to let its content fall into the palm of his hands. Two rings, both beautifully crafted, shone lightly in the lantern light. They were tinted red in the fiery glow. One was feminine and thin, made of mithril, the metal beaten and curved into the likeness of waves of the sea. There was a slight touch of blue on the tips of the waves and on the top of it rested a small flat sapphire. The other was larger, thicker and more masculine, with vines of gold decorated in the likeness of branches till they came to the top of the ring with a larger emerald. His father had made them for him some time ago by Gimli. He touched one with the forefinger of his other hand, wondering if she were still on the Hither Shores, if she had waited or was wed. He did not know and he had not sent anyone to find out. But looking down at the two rings, his memories came back to him.

…

"_The Sea," she sighed, hair blowing in the breeze. "It is a passageway to Valinor, where it is said that our hurts are healed there, and we are untouched by pain and grief. Our sanctuary, our haven, or so they call it."_

"_I am sure it is so." Legolas answered. "But it is a choice not lightly made. Those who take the ships can never return."_

_She fell silent before giving a light sigh and turned to him. He turned to her as well, tearing his eyes away from the large expanse of the Sea. She placed her hand on his chest, upon his heart. "It is said that the Sindarin are descended from the Teleri and their hearts are slow to kindle to love the Sea or to feel its longing. But you are not only of Sindarin blood but Silvan. Tell me, does your heart yearn for the Sea?"_

"_I admit that its beauty is not like any other and gulls sing for us, but no, I do not feel the longing for the Sea."_

_She pulled back her hand as if he burned her. He frowned. There was another reason why she called him here to the docks. She turned away from him in agitation and then she turned back to him._

"_Come away with me." She urged. "Come away with me, across the Sea."_

"_I cannot do that." He replied, surprised. "You know that I cannot."_

"_Legolas-"_

"_You have a duty here, and so do I. we cannot leave our people in these dark times."_

_Her shoulders drooped as if she feared that would be his answer._

"_Be warned. If we stay here we may meet at the opposite ends of a battlefield."_

_He raised his hand and touched her temple hesitantly. _

"_Must it be so?"_

"_You made it so."_

…

And now the two rings nestled together in the palm of his hand. They had not yet exchanged rings for their betrothal, only spoke out a promise for one another. And even that, after more than just one Age of separation, he wondered if it was still there, unbroken.

"How I wish to turn back time," Legolas said, sighing before pushing the rings back into their pouch. He returned them to their drawer, a sketch resting in it with the room being dark enough not to define its features. "But we were never one to leave our duties, you and I."

He closed his drawer.

**~S~**

**Author's Note:**

Conversations in italics are Sindarin. Complete paragraphs in italics are memories.

Let me know what you think. :)

P.S. You didn't think I would jump straight into action now, did you? Oh, no. Not this time. :P I believe I am going to take you guys for a trip around the Elven Realms before tossing y'all into Gondor.

**Replies to reviews:**

Smiley: Aw, you are welcome. :)

cheekybeak: Haha, such enthusiasm. And yes you can have more as long as you keep the reviews coming. :D

Brightpath2: Thanks and I am glad you guys are guessing. It keeps my interest in story making as well. :D

emi: Well I did say I might come back or I might not. But that is the only goodbye anyone will get from me, so it still applies. Besides, the prologue and the chapter were lying around. I have not written the story out as I had done with OTWAB and I am a bit worried to see how far I am gonna go before losing my path. I know the skeleton of the plotline but the details are a bit sketchy. :)

And no, you can't. I like a hawk that is feisty. Almost all the hawks except for Silverclaw are so calm and helpful. I wanted Silverclaw to have her own mind to make her stand out a bit more. :)


	3. Legolas' Presence Requested

**Author's Note:**

Sorry for anything wrong with this chapter. I am tired and I have a paper tomorrow, so it was a little rushed. An important author's note is at the end.

Nearly 10,000 words. Leave a review to tell me how much you love me. :P

**~S~**

**Chapter 2**

They brought their horses to a halt, all of them looking up.

"Hanon, there is nothing left." Legolas said quietly to the Head Commander.

The clearing where they had halted their horses was once known as Rangers' Circle. It was given that name because of the almost circular clearing, surrounded by trees that held houses connected to each other with bridges. These trees were tall and large in size, making it possible to make two houses in one tree as they moved upwards. There were no sockets for torches to be lit during the night, for there were elves in their order that were skilled in casting enchantments and would cast orbs of light in the air. Fires they lit in the clearing to provide warmth and rugs and fur linings they kept in their homes to keep the cold at bay.

But at the moment, morning sunshine streamed down upon the Rangers' Circle. The trees had diminished, and the extensive canopy of leaves and branches that once provide shelter for the elves had receded somewhat, letting in more golden sunrays than Legolas ever remembered in his childhood he spent here when he became an apprentice.

"I know." Hanon said, pulling off his hood and peering at the ruins. "But that is not what we are here for. Spread out." The Head Commander ordered, raising his voice. "Look for any fell creatures here. Kill on sight and report back to me." The Rangers quickly spread out, bringing out their bows, just in case. Legolas wandered away, bow in hand.

Only one building was on ground, the rest were built in the trees. This was the healing longhouse, meant for the severely injured who were in no condition to be lifted into the trees. The nearest houses to the longhouse belonged to all the Rangers who were healers. Some of the houses built directly above the healing houses were also used for the sick and injured.

The door leading into the longhouse was broken, half eaten by termites. The moment Legolas touched it the door fell to the ground with a loud crash.

"Report?" A shout came from nearby.

"Clear." Legolas called back, indicating that all was well. He took a step into the longhouse gingerly. There were beds against the walls on either side, with shelves placed at intervals, meant for ointments and herbs and personal belongings of the wounded or sick. It seemed desolate and empty, with many of the shelves fallen to the floor, the moth-eaten bedspreads and faded colors. The beds were half broken, with the rotting and dank smell rising from them. there were patches in the roof where it was broken and light came through, with pools of water in some corners of the longhouse. He searched quickly, before deeming the place to be empty. It had nothing of value, save perhaps some books he suspected was written on healing and mixture of herbs to make ointments and salves but they were too ruined to be read. He left the longhouse, and took the steps leading up one of the trees. The talan he came on led to houses belonging to the healers. He searched inside, but found nothing except for some rodents who took to inhabiting the drawers, and small birds who built their nests high in the shelves. Leaving them in peace, he left it and went for one of the bridges leading to the other trees.

One of the Rangers had also decided to do the same thing opposite to Legolas. but as soon as he reached near the middle of the bridge, the ropes holding the bridge in place gave way, causing the Ranger to fall in a sheer drop below.

"Arandur!" Legolas gave a shout, reaching for him. a useless gesture, a part of him thought irrationally, since he was nowhere to catching him. another part of him resigned to the fact that the Ranger was facing multiple fractures from falling such a distance.

Then something happened. The tree that Arandur had been on twisted, its branches fanning out. Arandur crashed into the branches before grabbing onto one of them but not before Legolas heard a sickening crack, even from where he was standing. Legolas quickly scrambled down, forgoing the rotting steps and taking the branches down instead. As he ran to the tree Arandur was hanging from, other Rangers were running towards him as well. He recognized Bregon among them.

"Help him down," Bregon said briskly, his healer part of him getting hold.

Arandur was helped down and gently laid on his back on the ground. Bregon knelt beside him and started to check him, gentle hands pressing down as he asked Arandur where the pain was. When he pressed down on his chest, Arandur groaned. The healer pulled back his hand.

"One or two broken ribs," Bregon announced. "And you are lucky you are not coughing blood."

Arandur gave a strangled laugh that turned into another groan. Legolas turned and went to the tree that saved Arandur.

_~You are awake.~ _Legolas said, pressing his hand against the bark. The tree was still for a moment, before bending a branch to touch the top of his head briefly before returning to its position.

_~Elfling.~ _It rumbled, before falling silent. No matter how many times Legolas called it, the tree did not respond. Sighing, he removed his hand and turned away.

"Take out the ropes." Legolas ordered, facing the other Rangers waiting closeby. "We will use them instead of the bridges. I do not want another hurt Ranger."

They got to work, bringing out two ropes for each bridge. One was used for footing, and the other was at shoulder level, meant to hold on to while they walked over the first rope. Meanwhile, Bregon used linen bandages to bind Arandur's chest and keep it from shifting. Arandur took the concoction Bregon gave him for the pain.

"You are staying on the ground for now." Bregon told him.

"And to think I was excited for being here after so long." The Ranger looked genuinely sorry.

"Look at the bright side," Bregon said wryly. "Your wife will instantly forgive all the pranks you have been playing on her."

Arandur laughed before instantly grimacing in pain.

"And no laughing." Bregon added, patting Arandur's knee before getting up.

They worked more quickly than before, as Hanon wanted Arandur be taken back to the Halls for further treatment and he had no wish to divide the Rangers.

One of the reports from a younger Ranger confirmed Hanon's fears. There was a nest of spider eggs stashed in what once served as a storehouse for rations they kept for outgoing Rangers. They doused the place with oil before setting it on fire.

It was a slower going back to the Halls because of Arandur's pain. The ride took more than three hours in place of its usual two hours ride. When they finally reached the Halls, they dismounted at the courtyard.

"Come," Bregon told Arandur after carefully helping him dismount. "You need to have that more properly treated."

"Let us go and see where the king is." Hanon told Legolas.

"Hanon, where is Fion?"

"He is out on patrol since last night. He should be coming back sometime before noon."

They entered the Halls and Legolas spotted Galion.

"Galion, where is my father?" He asked after the head servant, the main caretaker of his father's quarters and study.

"I have not seen him since I served him breakfast and collected it thereafter."

"Did he go into his study?"

"His things were in order as they were last night."

Intending to go and look for his father, Legolas took one step forward before he was instantly pulled back.

"Oh, no, you do not." Hanon said dryly. "I need your reports on my desk right this instant. And I am not going to take any answer from you."

What protests he had for the Head Commander fell on deaf ears as he was dragged back to the Rangers' Wing. Hanon promptly forced him to sit down by a table and placed parchment, inkwell and quill for him, all the while ignoring the prince's suffering look.

"I need them now, Legolas." Hanon called over his shoulder, knowing full well he had not yet reached for the quill. Muttering under his breath for being forced to work (conveniently forgetting that he had been the one putting it off), Legolas started his long paperwork.

It took him an hour and a half to finish it. When he was done, he went to Hanon's study and placed it in front of him with a huff.

"You run from paperwork like King Thranduil does."

"Grandfather was always the proper king." Legolas called over his shoulder as he made to exit. He stopped by the door. "Are you not coming for lunch?"

"I have my own reports to write."

'Now look who is lagging behind."

Hanon laughed. "Away with you!"

Much to his surprise, his father did not even put in an appearance for lunch. It was not wholly uncommon for Thranduil, but since there were no pressing matters to take care of, or a guest to entertain, it was certainly unusual. So after a short lunch, Legolas excused himself and went on to search for his father in the deeper levels.

He found his father sitting where he suspected he might be. The crystal hall went by numerous names, but to them, it was simply a place which Legolas' mother loved. The hall was dark, but with lit torches lining the walls. Above them was crystal imbedded in stone. The fiery light of the lit torches was cast into the crystals, which reflected the light back in many colors. This scattered light was strewn over the ground, which the stonemasons decorated to give the false impression of being jeweled instead of the ceiling. This hall was located deep into Thranduil's Caverns. It did not have many visitors, in spite of its beauty, but those who did come preferred silence and solitude instead of company.

Thranduil sat cross-legged on the floor right beneath the crystal embedded ceiling. He had a plate of bread and honey laid in front of him. he watched his father make a morsel and pop it into his mouth before making his presence known.

"I thought I might find you here."

"You are back." Thranduil noted as his son came to sit beside him.

"I am. And you missed lunch."

"I did not know my presence was needed." Thranduil said, wordlessly offering from his plate which Legolas declined.

"Why are you having just bread and honey?"

"I find simple food tends to humble you." Thranduil said wryly. "And if I have any more variety in my plate for now, I might start gaining weight."

Legolas laughed. His father was one of the many well known for their muscular prowess. He doubted his father could go out of practice so quickly, but Thranduil was extremely careful.

"Your mother liked to come here." Thranduil said after he swallowed another mouthful. Honey finished, he tore of the bread and ate just that. "She loved the crystals. Times were hard, and I would not allow her to go into the forest unattended by armed guards and we could spare none at the time."

"It is very beautiful."

"Aye, it is." Thranduil said, finishing the bread and dusting his fingers on the plate before setting it to a side. Then he took hold of a satchel by his side that Legolas had missed noticing.

"I found these back in our city. When Annatar left, condemned by my father, I knew that we were in trouble. Your mother and I hid some of our most loved treasures from view and there they were, untouched." Thranduil let the contents fall onto his lap. Some of them Legolas recognized in faded memories of seeing her mother wear such jewelry. Others he did not remember.

"You gave mother this one. I remember." Legolas said, picking up a silver band with a design of interlinked crescents etched into it.

"We kept these." Thranduil said. "Arodien always wanted a daughter. She wished to have lingered enough to see you married." Thranduil glanced at his son, seeing him tense slightly. "We hoped to give these upon your marriage as a gift to your future wife."

"Father-"

"I take blame for what happened between you and Életh. Your grandfather and I should not have let our pride get in the way."

"Father-"

"You have been avoiding this subject for far too long." Thranduil said. "It has been long enough. You need to move on and you have to face her."

"I do not even know if she is on these shores. I left her at the docks!" Legolas' words were sharp.

Thranduil and Oropher both had different personalities. Thranduil was more outspoken, easily read, but Oropher was more quiet, thoughtful and vague. Thranduil was an easier person to talk to, and he was easier to relate but Oropher was well-known for his aloofness, though he cared for his people just as much as Thranduil did. He was simply less approachable. They had different ways to channel their temper or frustrations. Thranduil, being more outspoken, was a bit more reckless than his father, something Oropher disapproved of completely. He would easily jump in a fight but Oropher's entire body language would change in his anger. His figure would harden and tense and he would suddenly become quiet and deadly. No, Oropher did not need to take action to make his anger known; it would quickly become apparent in his features. The same was the case with Legolas. his son would tense and bristle in his anger, but he would not need to act on it to make himself known. Rage would simply roll off of him. It was times like these that Thranduil did not know which type was more destructive, his own or his father's.

"You will hold your tongue with me, boy." Thranduil said sternly. Immediately, Legolas became quiet, chastised. No, his son was not rebellious by nature. "You will go to the docks and find out if she is still there. Or I could put in a word for her-"

"No."

"Legolas-"

"I said no."

Thranduil sighed, becoming gentler.

"You are not to blame."

But Legolas said nothing.

oOo

"_Mithon's back." _

Thranduil looked up. Thorontur was standing by the open window, one hand on the fence and the other pushing his robes back in the wind. He had left his darker robes for lighter ones, wearing light grey robes. Thranduil got up and went to Thorontur's side, looking down at the courtyard. Sure enough, he could see the sharp uniforms of the guards in the distance.

"_Come. Let us go down and meet them."_

When they left the study and went out into the courtyard, the guards were already dismounted, handing their horses to the grooms to be taken care of. The guards were dressed in armor of dusted gold. It comprised of a mail shirt, over which was long tunic embedded with metal plates. The tunic was different shades of gold, the tips ended at mid calves. It also extended at the front and back, with a golden belt around the waist and knee high boots. Many of the elves were taking off their helmets, which were pointed at two areas, on either side of the head and a nose piece pointed downward. All the helmets took on the dull golden color.

"_Mithon!" _Thranduil called, recognizing the tall, lean, black-haired elf among the ellyn taking a filled goblet from one of the servants giving them refreshments. _"I trust your journey had went well." _

"_It had, Sire." _Mithon said. In spite of the years he had served Thranduil, even before he became king, he still referred him as 'King' or 'Sire'. He seemed to be ill at ease.

"_Is something wrong?" _Thranduil asked, eyes narrowing slightly at Mithon's strange behavior.

"_Can we speak?" _Mithon asked, still not smiling. _"I would prefer if what I have to say does not wait."_

"_What happened?" _Thranduil asked, concerned once he closed the door behind him in a council room.

"_We went both places as you had requested the city of Dale as well as the Lonely Mountain." _Mithon said.

"_And?" _Thranduil asked, gesturing the elf to sit. He complied and Thranduil sat opposite to him.

"_Thorin Stonehelm was good to us. Surprisingly so, in fact. He took the news well. He was very diplomatic but I can safely say he was very welcoming to the idea of establishing trade with us."_

"_then where is the problem?"_

"_We offered aid to the city of Dale as you had requested. King Bard was not very welcoming." _At Thranduil's frown, Mithon continued. _"He was not only suspicious but cold to us as well. We were not… well treated there, though they did not dare to show us open hostility. I have brought letters from them both, but I thought you should know how each reacted."_

"_And why do you seem it to be important?"_

"_Sire, can I speak plainly?"_

"_Plain speech is what I am looking for."_

The dry humor was lost on Mithon. _"It is simply outrageous the way he acted." _The royal guard burst out angrily. _"The pompous attitude he possessed when he greeted us was dumbfounding. He regarded us suspiciously and he seemed to hate being right under the same roof as with us. had it not for been your orders, I would not have stayed any longer."_

Thranduil stifled both a sigh of relief and the amusement at Mithon's words; relief, because he had suspected something much worse. He had sent Mithon, his own guard as a messenger, feeling that it was much more of a direct message than sending a simple courier. But whoever he sent, he would guard jealously. It was a trait of his. He would protect what his forest held dearly. Any insult to his messengers was a direct insult to him. Compared to all the things that came to his mind, this was only a minor insult. Amused, because he finally understood Mithon's feelings. Compared to their Silvan brethren in Lorien, the elves of Eryn Lasgelen were stranger and more proud. They were blunt to talk to, something that Thranduil always found refreshing. If there was anything he hated more, it was frivolous flattery and flowery phrases.

"_For a moment I thought you were going to tell me something much more serious or drastic." _Thranduil said.

"_And this is not serious?"_

"_You are unused to monarchs, my good friend. You remain by my side and yet remain detached to what goes around you when it comes to our relations with other realms. It is not as serious as it seems. I had been suspecting to have strained relations with Dale for some time ever since Bard took his father's seat. But do not worry yourself on these matters. I thank you." _Thranduil said. _"Little details are often the most important. I will take care of King Bard. You should go and rest. Likely after such a cold welcome from Dale, your own quarters will be much more comfortable."_

A brief knock came on the door. Thranduil called to enter, and he saw Galion glance inside.

"_Forgive me, but a visitor is very keen to meet someone who just returned." _The elf had a small smile on his face, giving away the identity of the visitor.

"_I think your son caught wind of your return." _Thranduil said, getting up. _"Wash and rest. You can return to your duties after you have fully recovered. Galion, let the little one in. I am sure the two weeks of separation kept both father and son eager for a reunion."_

Mithon's son shot through the door and right into the open arms of his father, who knelt to welcome him. Mithon nearly lost his balance, laughing and his previous frown forgotten. Thranduil smiled and left quietly.

He found Legolas waiting for him back in his study. Evidently Thorontur told him of Mithon's return and his wish to speak to him, because he could see curiosity evident on his son's face.

"_What did Mithon speak to you about?" _Legolas asked.

"_You do not seem surprised." _Thranduil noted after he finished telling Bard's reaction to Mithon's company.

"_It is not really so surprising." _Legolas replied. _"Bard never really trusted us, even as a young child. I think somewhere deep in his heart, he does not forgive us, or rather you, for not sending aid to save his father."_

"_I would have sent aid if we hadn't been imprisoned in our own forest." _Thranduil said.

"_Bard does not know that. Still, I think what you are doing is right. It is time we kept away from the men of Dale. We had been friends with them before but this is the Age of Men, well and wholly. Our advice is not always sought or well received."_

"_I am impressed that he is still remaining a cordial relationship with us."_

"_Bard may not like us but he is no fool. He knows we possess a greater army and we have more allies, and powerful ones at that, than him. He would not try to challenge us when it comes to who has more power."_

"_I am still keeping the same traditions with him as I had done with his forefathers." _This time Legolas did look surprised.

"_Welcoming him here to our Halls for our festivals? But why would you do that?"_

"_If not for him, then for the fathers before him. Bard who took down the dragon Smaug was a good friend of mine and I do not forget friendship."_

"_And Mithon felt this was important to speak to you about immediately?"_

"_Mithon is never a diplomat. He is a guard and he wants nothing more than be given orders as to what to do and where to go. He is unused to these matters but I did not discourage it of him. You never know what points others might pick that you yourself might miss."_

The conversation gradually turned to lighter sorts until they finally settled for studying maps for planning their journeys to Lorien and Imladris.

"I shouldn't have a problem reaching Lorien." Thranduil said, taking down another scroll from his shelf and unrolling it over a table, revealing a map. "If I reach our southern border, Lorien is almost less than a day away from there. It will take us another day and half to reach Caras Galadhon, more if we do not meet any of the Galadhrim right away to lead us there. Your journey will be longer."

Legolas chewed his lower lip, gazing at the map.

"Stop that." Thranduil said, interrupting his thoughts.

"Stop what?" Legolas asked, bewildered.

"Chewing your lip. You have your grandfather's habit."

Legolas laughed and returned his attention to the map.

"The paths should not have much danger as they had before, except perhaps for some ruffians or thugs who are ill-advised so as to attack us." Legolas said, gesturing at the roads leading through the mountains to Imladris. "We are taking the swifter horses, so the distance should not be much of a matter."

"You will have to take rest days in between. This is not an urgent meeting."

"True," Legolas conceded. "There should be no snowfall this time of the year. But there will be snow and perhaps ice on the pathways. The horses will be going on walk there. A smaller company will be swifter."

"You are not going alone." Thranduil said, not bothering to look up from where he was studying the roads to Lorien.

"But-"

"No buts-"

"But-"

"Legolas," Thranduil warned, still not looking up.

"Fine." Legolas grumbled under his breath, returning his attention to the map. He did not see his father glance at him in amusement.

"If you are worried that I will send Dorián with you and you will have to listen to him moaning over his love-"

"I am."

"He is not going."

"He is not?" Legolas asked, looking up in surprise. Thranduil looked up and shook his head.

"Fion and Hanon feel that he has some uses here. And if he does want to get married to Arodis this century," his father chuckled. "Then he will have to work hard for it."

Legolas nodded and turned his attention back to the route.

"Dorián has been leaving the Halls at odd times in the night."

"I know." Thranduil replied.

"You knew?"

"Of course. The trees tend to keep me informed about his whereabouts."

"Where is he going?"

"Promise me you will not go after him."

"He is going back to the ruins of Dol Guldur, isn't he?"

Thranduil sighed and gave up studying the map. He straightened and placed his fists on his hips.

"Yes." Thranduil replied. "He has. And I will not have you or any other well-meaning elves go after him."

"But why?" Legolas asked, baffled. "The shadows are long gone and he is free from them."

"Some shadows can never be freed from, Legolas." Thranduil said quietly. "Sauron is reduced to nothing, and crippled beyond recognition, but his effects will remain. And even if Dorián can finally overcome his experience, a part of him will always think over whatever he has gone through." Thranduil hesitated for a moment, thinking before adding, "I have heard he has trouble sleeping."

"You posted guards outside his door?" Legolas asked in disbelief.

"Actually I asked the servants to keep me informed. I like to know about his wellbeing. They told me they found him awake at odd hours of the night- where are you going?" Thranduil asked sharply.

"I am going after him."

"Absolutely not." Thranduil said firmly. "Some fights are our own and you will respect Dorián's boundaries, even if you are his closest friend. You will not go after him or question him or hint to him that what you just found out from me. I say this as a father as well as a king. Do so and I will put you on patrol and even tell Hanon you need some of the vigorous training."

For a moment Legolas considered if his idea was worth his father's (and king's) wrath and decided it was not. "Fine," Legolas relented, letting go of the door's handle.

oOo

The trees here were silent. He pressed one hand on the bark of a tree.

_~Are you awake?~ _He asked gently. The tree remained silent for a moment, and then it rumbled almost inaudibly. _~Go back to sleep.~_

The trees near Dol Guldur had become twisted and dark in nature. But since the breaking of Dark Lord's hold over the kingdom, the trees lost their nature but then diminished. They would still rumble or unwind when they heard an elf's voice or felt an elf's touch. But they no longer spoke any words.

He pulled off his hood as he slowly marched up to the ruins of a large stony fortress. Galadriel was well known for her power. She had thrown down all the walls of Dol Guldur, causing the walls to fall inward into the city. It was difficult going up due to the rubble of the walls. He walked carefully, tilting his body forward as he went.

The city was silent but not eerily so. There were signs of life creeping back to the place. There were a few sprouts of green around. He saw some of the birds rising from the higher towers, gliding in the air. There were some more signs of life, with lizards and worms crawling over the place. Dol Guldur was healing but slowly. It would be a long while before this land could forget the horrors of more than an Age.

He made his way into the courtyard, or what remained of it. Signs of battle were more prominent than anything else. When Dol Guldur was first built, it was meant to be a fortress for Oropher's people. Times were becoming unpredictable, and they needed safety and refuge. It was large and heavily fortified, meant to endure many months of siege. It was famous for its many stone staircases inside the fortress as well as outside. They were various in shapes and lengths, some were wide and straight while others were narrow and still others were winding. Most of them were now nothing but rubble. Thranduil's army took great lengths to destroy as much as they could. Dol Guldur was something of a source of shame for them. When it was first built, meant to be a fortress, King Amdir did not take it kindly. Relations with other Realms were very strained and to keep the peace, King Oropher decided to forsake the fortress. They should have brought it down when they still could, but in the dead of the night, the orcs had come and killed what battalion Oropher had stationed there and took Dol Guldur for their own. The fortress meant to protect Greenwood's elves turned into a prison, a place of horror. It was defilement in their forest, a source of shame. Too often many elves had looked in the direction of Dol Guldur and wondered what kith and kin lay in the pits of the fortress.

He made his way towards the main structure of the fortress, ignoring the darkened stains on the ground. He had not seen much of the place, since he used the catacombs and hidden passageways to gain entry. He did not even remember what Dol Guldur was like before it was taken by the orcs. He did recall some glimpses of it, of laughter and lights but that was all that he could remember.

He went up the steps warily, finally entering the main structure through an arch that was still standing. It did not do much good for there were neither walls nor a roof, and up to a point, there was no floor. He went to the edge of the floor and looked down warily. The pits were normally dark, pitch black in fact. But now they were laid bare for the world to see. Sunshine streamed down into the pits, making the place look less dark in the golden light but even more ugly at the same time. Elves destroyed as much as they could by removing signs of the horror that took place there but at the same time they could not wholly remove all signs of it. He could still see fragments of chains attached to the floor, the broken iron gates still standing in places which would lead to separate cells for prisoners. The walls of the cells were crumbled or crumbling. He could see the broken bowls, the whips strewn over the floor. What was not present there, his memories made up for it. The air was fresh, but it had not been so then. He remembered the horrible stench of rotting flesh and excrements in the air. He could almost hear the sound of whip cracking, accompanied by a pained whimper of an unfortunate prisoner. There were different prisoners here. Some of them were men or dwarves but many of them were elves. The elves were those who were captured recently but many were those captures centuries earlier. Sauron was doing experiments, or so he had been told. He had been trying to find out Morgoth's secret of making orcs out of elves. The thought had sickened him before and it still raised bile in his throat at the notion. He had glimpses of such elves through his imprisonment, horribly emaciated, vacant dull eyes but still alive and yet lost in thought and devoid of expression.

As for himself, he had been fortunate and unfortunate at the same time. Fortunate, because he had been spared the humiliation they had inflicted upon the other elves and the extent of… violation they took part in. and unfortunate, because they gave him slower, more painful forms of torture. Starvation would not have broken him soon enough, so his time was more torturous and he remembered the whips and knives all too well.

It was one of the reasons why kept his silence after each imprisonment. The horrors of the place, of what he had seen being done to others coupled with what he had faced was too much for even him to bear. The shock had been great along with his grief and anxiety. Even now he forced down his memories that threatened to take hold of him. He had been coaxed to speak of his experiences by almost everyone, including the king himself, but he could not bring himself to do so.

And what right had he, to speak of his own time spent here? Elves had spent centuries upon centuries of thralldom in Dol Guldur. The time they had to face in the accursed fortress put Dorián to shame. He could not bring himself to speak for that very reason; for he felt he should bear it better because those elves bore much worse.

He felt a gentle hand press against his shoulder and he jumped. One of his fingers went for his hidden blade in the sleeve of his other arm. He would have reached for his dual blades but that would attract too much attention and the action would not make sense to his opponent.

"_Dorián, do not."_

He froze, turning his head to see his former mentor standing behind him. Fion was bent slightly at the waist, hand still stretched out that touched his shoulder. Dorián slowly relaxed, forcibly calming his racing heart by taking even breaths.

"_I apologize." _Dorián said after a while. _"This place tends to put my wits at an end."_

Fion nodded quietly, letting the incident pass.

"_May I join you?"_

"_How did you find me?"_

"_The trees tend to give away you are going."_

"_The trees can mind their own business." _Dorián muttered. Fion smiled and took Dorián's shifting to one side as an invitation to sit. He sat in the same fashion as Dorián did, with his legs dangling where the floor ended, into the pits. Fion remained silent, his figure completely relaxed and slowly, Dorián began to relax as well when he realized Fion was not here to demand why he had come to the ruins of Dol Guldur.

"I had been coming back here for a few months." Dorián said, breaking the silence. Beside him, Fion inhaled.

"I know."

"You do?"

"The king knows too."

"I suspected he might."

Silence fell again.

"I cannot help coming back here." Dorián said quietly.

Another silence fell.

"When Legolas joined the Fellowship and we returned to Mirkwood, there was something else that made you want to come back to Dol Guldur. It was not just you trying to make yourself useful. I am right, am I not?"

"A little bit." Dorián said after a pause.

"Dorián, there is something you must know." Fion said, hesitating. The veteran cleared his throat and went on more firmly. "We did not know how to tell you this. You had been very injured and weak when we brought you to the healing wards back in the Halls. At first, we decided not to tell you at all. When we rescued you from these pits, you were not the only one. We found other elves as well trapped in this place. Some of them were from Lorien, few from Rivendell, possibly from the envoys and messengers Elrond might have sent but never reached us. Many were from here, this forest. You should know we could not recognize many of the dead, but some who were alive or barely so were still recognizable." Fion drew in a deep breath and looked at the Dorián. "In a neighboring pit we found some elves. Among them was one we recognized because he was still wearing his marriage ring." Dorián's face went pale. "Dorián, that elf was your father."

He must have gone overly quiet, for now Fion was looking at him very anxiously. "He might not have reached Lindon at all. He might have been attacked on the way and brought to Dol Guldur. He died soon after we took him out of the pits, the light and the food we gave him was too unbearable for him. but we gave him a proper burial. Dorián, say something."

For the first time since his imprisonment, Dorián wept.

oOo

"Have you seen my son?" Thranduil asked when he sat down at his desk some days later. Across the study, Thorontur looked up briefly.

"Hanon said he went for inspection of the Rangers over our northern borders. He should be back the night of the next day."

"Good. I have to finalize his trip for Imladris. See to it that he knows when he returns."

Thorontur nodded wordlessly and went back to work. They worked continuously for three hours. After the War, their work had become blessedly lighter. It was not until Mithon knocked and came inside did they finally look up. Much to the surprise of both of them, the royal guard was openly grinning.

"I beg your pardon, Sire, but there is something you should see."

Mithon's words immediately made him turn for the worst scenarios from the return of the orcs, killed sentries and harmed ellyth. Noticing his look, Mithon added, "It is nothing to be concerned about, Sire, but I think it will be a pleasant change from your work."

"What is it?" Thranduil asked, intrigued.

"You will see. Come, Sire! We will need our horses. Lord Thorontur can come as well."

They quickly went to their respective living chambers and returned in riding attire. Habit made all three of them carry their swords and their shields held in place at the side of the saddle. Mithon led them out, but instead of taking the Great Forest Road, he turned his horse to the left, going off the main road and riding straight. Thranduil suspected they were not going on a hunt, and by the way Mithon was leading them, he had suspicions they were going to an outpost.

It turned out to be true. Mithon led him directly to an outpost they used very rarely, because of the heavy defenses they kept on their borders. It was meant more to be a place of refuge if any of the outposts situated near the borders were compromised. And they were not alone. Two and a half dozen horses already stood near the trees, feeding leisurely on the grass. The outpost itself was not empty. He could hear fair voices coming from it and laughter. Mithon dismounted and the other two followed suit. Thranduil shared a glance with his advisor, who was just as confused and curious as him. Mithon, however, seemed comfortable and quickly made his way up the rope ladder. After a moment's hesitation they did so too.

"They are here. I brought them." Mithon said, opening the door.

"Ah, splendid." Hanon said, appearing before them. "You came just in time."

"Just in time for what?" Thranduil asked warily.

"Come, come, it will make more sense if you stand right here." Hanon said, pulling both the king and advisor towards the single window, facing south.

It was a large window, able to fit one person right through. From where he stood, he could see trees in front of him and the ground below him. but right at the top of the window was a thin but sturdy rope and at a closer inspection, he could see it was laced with some metal- mithril? Thranduil wondered. Curiously, he turned his head and saw the rope tightened around a hook at the back of the room, the mithril melted into the hook to keep it firm. Then he followed the rope with his eyes, until the rope passed through the window and into the trees in a straight, taut line.

"It doesn't make sense." Thorontur said finally after his own assessments and Thranduil could not help but agree. His voice died in his throat however, when he noticed something strange hanging from the rope just in front of the hook, held in place by a Ranger's hand. It looked like a harness. Thranduil went over to it and felt it carefully. The harness-like contraption was hooked to the rope with some sort of a metallic box fitted as a pulley. The harness itself was made of leather but padded and reinforced for both comfort and security. Thranduil looked at it, then let his eyes travel to the hook and to the rope leading outside before realizing what it was for.

"You are insane." Thranduil stated. Hanon laughed.

"See? I told you he will catch on."

"This is suicide." Thorontur said in disbelief.

"Ah, now, I can assure you it works wonderfully."

"I do not really believe you." Thranduil told the elf.

"Well, I can tell you we have tried and tested it."

"Who was killed?"

"No one!" Hanon protested, laughing. "And Fion was the one who tried it."

Thranduil imagined Fion trying such a ridiculous idea and failed miserably. A younger Fion would try it, he was sure, but life had changed him. His son's untimely death, his responsibilities, everything had made Fion sterner, firmer. But still, he widened his mind and searched for him. he found Fion's presence and pressed his mind against his.

_~Fion?~_

_~Hm?~_

_~Ah, so you are alive and not lying on the ground in pieces?~_

Fion's laughter rocked the mental link. Thranduil blinked. His closest friend sounded younger, freer.

_~I am well and whole.~ _The veteran assured him. _~I assume Hanon showed you his invention.~_

_~A brazen plan made by a lunatic will be closer to the truth.~_

_~It is not as ill made as it seems, I can assure you. The dwarves took a look at it before we decided to try it.~_

Thranduil walked over to the window and looked down. The tree of Eryn Lasgelen were not as tall as those of Lorien but they were tall enough to cause serious injuries, and considering the high speed they will be going, a fall would result in an instant death.

_~Right, the dwarves. That makes me feel better.~_

_~Trust us.~_

_~It will be an instant death if one falls from this rope.~_

_~It is completely trustworthy. Try it. Now, I have training to put on for the archers.~_

"Fine." Thranduil said. "I will try it."

"Let me go first." Thorontur said, surprising them both.

"Ah, so the advisor decides to have a little fun." Hanon teased. "Come, we will set you into the harness."

He watched them place a footstool for Thorontur. Stepping on it, the harness was used for both arms and legs, meant to keep the wearer secure. It took them a while before they finally let Thorontur go down. The advisor went with uncharacteristically loud shout, making the elves laugh.

He watched them fit another harness on the rope. When they were done, he stepped on the footstool and placed his arms through the straps before being lifted and harnessing his legs.

"You will need to pull this chain for brakes. Otherwise you will slam into the tree at the end of the rope." Hanon said, waving the chain for Thranduil to see. Thranduil nodded.

"Are you ready?" Hanon asked, him and another Ranger pulling back him back. But Thranduil barely had time to say yes as the Rangers ran and let him go, passing right through the window.

His heart jumped to the throat. Air whipped through his hair. There was a blur of green leaves of the trees as the ground ran passed him. The feeling was exhilarating. He passed through the trees until he felt a sudden jerk and he passed through the branches of one tree. It jerked again and then the rope pushed him right beneath the branches of a tree. Finally he saw Thorontur waiting with some of the elves beneath the tree. He realized this was the end. He reached and pulled the chain.

The jerk was sickening, an unpleasant thing to feel after such an experience. Then some of the elves helped him out of the harness.

"Thank you, Nimon." Thranduil said, recognizing one of the Rangers.

"I should get this harness back to the outpost." Nimon said, pulling the harness free from the rope.

"What do you think?" Thorontur asked, grinning.

"It was an experience unlike any other." Thranduil admitted, laughing as he reached the ground. "What about you?"

"It felt exciting." Thorontur confessed. "I might go on it again."

A short time later, Mithon was the one coming from the rope.

"An excellent find," Thranduil said to him. "I am quite happy that you brought us here."

"Is it not?" Mithon said. "But I will never let my son use it. At least until he is old enough."

"So how did you come by this idea?" Thranduil asked Hanon when he came by the rope.

"It was an idea that came to me during the War." Hanon admitted. "Some of the archers and I were just discussing how the dwarves used carriages on a metallic rope to transport their gold over the pits and caverns. The idea just came from there."

Slowly word spread and more and more of his people came. Sentries were posted nearby out of sheer habit. Laughter rose and filled the air. But something about his people was now different. They seemed happier, and livelier than before.

He knew he should probably return to his duties but he could not pull back from joy surrounding him. Soon enough the ellyth joined in, much to Thorontur's amusement. They had brought some food from the Kitchens. There was broth with bread, tarts and pies.

"You have turned this into quite a party." He told Hanon when he went over the rope.

"I thought it was something all of us would like."

"You are right." Thranduil said. "My people seem younger, happier."

Evening drew on. The guards brought in the hounds just for increased protection. Then the music was struck up and some of the archers pulled their wives for a dance.

"Let us see if any of the ellyth want to try the rope."

"Hanon!"

"What?" Hanon asked, laughing as he bounded away.

"It has been a long time since we spent such a long time outside." Thorontur said, coming to stand beside him. His advisor was right. Most of the time, they spent their time only briefly outside, with the Rangers keeping an eye to keep any unwelcome guests away while they gave a banquet under the stars.

"We are lagging behind the paperwork." Thorontur said.

"I can't hear it." Thranduil said, standing just beside him. Thorontur chuckled.

oOo

At dawn at the beginning of next week, both companies for Thranduil and Legolas were ready. Thranduil was garbed in red and brown riding attire, accompanied by Thorontur and Hanon.

"Try not to annoy my librarian." Thranduil said with severity, tugging on to his riding gloves.

"My lord! As if we would ever!" Hanon said in mock horror, pressing his hand over his heart.

"You can and you would." Thranduil retorted, unfolding his arms and reaching forward to accept the reins from a groom bringing his horse. "Thorontur, keep an eye on them."

"Oh do not worry, Sire. I am sure the stonemasons will not mind have some help." Thorontur replied smoothly.

"Fine, fine! We will not do anything in your absence." Hanon said, raising his hands in defeat.

"You will not enlist the help of my servants."

"We never did that!" Hanon protested.

"Really? So accidently locking Arodis into the gallery, and Dorián entering the gallery with the other door blocked 'accidently' by furniture was none of your fault."

"The servants are getting careless these days!"

"Hanon, if you dare to lie at my face-"

"But I am innocent!" Hanon said. "I swear neither I nor my Rangers had anything to do with that one!"

Thranduil gazed at the Head Commander for a long while before deeming that the elf was truly telling the truth.

"It seems we have another conspirator in our midst." Thranduil mused. Thorontur shrugged.

"Could be some of the ellyth. Arodis has friends here and there."

"It is interesting to see so many married ellyn taking part in all of this." Legolas' drawl wafted over to them. "What could be the reason?"

"It will be the first wedding in many centuries." Thranduil replied dryly. "Besides, Dorián, who is well known for his antics, picks an elleth who is extremely shy and famous for scurrying off the moment you see her… it is quite a strange match."

"You cannot blame us for knowing a little." Hanon protested.

"Or, our elders like to gossip more than we realized." Legolas interrupted.

The annoyed looks of all three ellyn did little to affect Legolas' impertinent smile.

"Careful, little one," Hanon warned. "These elders are quite capable of making wedding days hard to live with."

Legolas only laughed.

Farewells were quick and short. Legolas did not have plans to stay in Imladris longer than necessary. Thranduil, on the other hand, intended to keep a long visit. The final plan was to have Thorontur acting as reagent until Legolas returned, who would take over his duties for him till Thranduil's return. After they settled the matter, they mounted and left.

oOo

They had spent considerably short time on the road, the lack of danger making it easier for them to pass through quickly. They did take rest days in between, allowing staying encamped while their horses rested and they replenished their water supply. As they drew nearer to the mountains, the weather became more harsh and biting, till the thicker cloaks and fur lined clothing came out of the bags carried by the pack horses. When they finally reached the pass, the weather was harsh. So they pulled their hoods low to protect their face and brought out the warmer blankets for their horses, protecting them from the cold. It was a slower going on the pass. The snow was deep and it was harder to walk. Oftentimes when they ascended, snow turned to ice, making their pathway even more treacherous. One of the guards slipped, breaking his ankle and they had to stop till it was set and he had taken something for the pain. They had to wait again, for his pain to subside enough to tolerate riding a horse. It took them more than a week and a half on the mountain pass. At last the pathway began to descend and become narrow, the weather changing for a pleasant one until they came upon Imladris.

The beauty of Imladris cannot be over exaggerated. A city built in a valley, it had lush forests, clear rivers and numerous waterfalls, bending and twisting naturally around which the city was built. The entire city was built in stone, with colored tiles making its roofs. The gardens were well tended, and statues stood in many places, some of warriors standing with their hands stretched outward as if in warning and others of she-elves with vases or lutes in their hands. The architecture was elegant and flowing, not like the architecture of Eryn Lasgelen, which was meant to remain preserved. Due to the many waterfalls, Imladris relied heavily on long bridges and almost everything was sheltered, even some of the gardens because of the continuous coming of rain clouds.

And yet, there had come a change on the city. Years ago, when Imladris was first built, they had nicknamed it the City of Lights, because of the wondrous scenery when the night fell and the lights would be lit. It was also named so because of the liveliness of the elves there. But where there was once laughter, there was subdued silence, as if the time of laughter has long since passed. There was relief of course, for the Dark Lord had finally been vanquished, but there were few people left in Imladris. The streets were not as full as they once were.

There was a change over the scenery as well. Lord Elrond's Ring of Power governed the elements to a minor degree. He could summon the elements, make them do his will, and though it was not to a great extent, it was still rather impressive. The trees would practically be humming with life and health, feeding of the Power of Elrond's Ring. The waterfalls would roar with a greater force, but now it was as if they had lost that force, that will to strive. The grass was not as green, the waters were calmer than usual, and the trees were more silent. They were almost… ordinary.

One of his company's riders pushed forward to ride with him. It was an archer, handling his reins almost unconsciously as he looked around.

"_Forgive my saying so, my prince," _the archer said in ancient Silvan dialect. Legolas blinked. It had been a long time since he spoken in Silvan. The last time he could recall speaking in that tongue was with his mother. _"But it feels as if the elves here have gone to sleep, or are in danger of Fading."_

"_Perhaps they are." _Legolas replied, letting his horse follow the street.

"_I do not understand it. They have more comforts and protection than we ever did. We had to resist evil at our doorsteps. They had to fight it from a distance."_

"_Opposition often breeds more life, my friend. Protection, on the other hand, dulls it, or lulls it back to sleep. Whichever you would prefer. Come, let us go up to the Last Homely House. I suspect Lord Erestor has already been told of our coming."_

**~S~**

**Author's Note:**

There are a few things that are troubling me tremendously. I had an idea to keep the suspense but then after reading a few reviews I decided I needed to clear some things also.

First off, Legolas' promised is not a daughter of Elrond/Celeborn/Erestor/Cirdan. She is not some lost sister of Aragorn. She is not a girl falls in Middle Earth (something a reader asked me when I first mentioned her in OTWAB). Yes, she is an elf, but I have not made her some sort of mary-sue.

You guys might have noticed that in my story the elves are not really perfect as you see in LOTR movies and such. They laugh, cry and have all the emotions and yet remain above the Race of Men and Dwarves.

The last thing I want is some sappy story. The intrigue is not really the elleth, it is the story behind her and the story that links Legolas with her. One thing I can tell you all that it is not a plotline itself. It is a side plot and I will explore it.

To be honest, I am not keen on the idea of introducing love lives but I cannot wholly reject it either. Elves did marry and it was a custom to be married young.

Also, remember that this is after the War story. I wanted to explore the idea that while Rivendell and Lorien was diminishing, Mirkwood was thriving. The people of Mirkwood are resilient.

There are other young ellyn and ellyth instead of Legolas and Dorian but the intriguing part about these two is that they are the only ones born of their generation (last generation to be born in the Second Age) to remain unmarried.

Also, Thranduil is not the person you see in ffn... but then my world of Tolkien is entirely different. :)

Sorry for such a scattered author's note. My head is throbbing. I think I will skip the replies for the last chapter but please do leave a review and tell me what yo think. :)


	4. A Moment of Silence For The Fallen

**Chapter 3**

They let their horses gallop up to the Last Homely House. It was built right at the edge of the valley, cornered on all sides with houses and bridges except behind it were the mountains. The entrance was guarded with sentries, but the gates were open and they rode through without any hindrance right into the courtyard. The horses made the sound of 'clip clop' over the tiled courtyard, the tiles being in a circular pattern with rings colored in a variety of tiles. Two large statues of guards stood, protecting a staircase leading to the main doors of the Homely House. They were expected, for the elf standing on that very staircase was none other than Erestor himself.

Erestor possessed something that was considered a dark beauty. With his jet black hair falling just at his shoulders and thick eyebrows that gave his face a natural frown, he seemed to give off something that could be thought as a sinister power. Tall, broad-shouldered, he towered over most elves, including Elrond himself. Had Legolas not truly known him, he would have thought him like the elf-lords of the Noldorin, but Erestor was nothing of the sort. He had been raised in Gondolin and spent his time in wanderlust before settling as a chief advisor of Elrond, or his sons now that they had control of Imladris… if they had been there.

"Legolas Thranduilion," Erestor called out, voice deep and even. He tilted his head slightly as his company drew near. Legolas dismounted and the other elves followed suit. "I trust the journey was uneventful."

"Well met," Legolas returned. "It was, mostly. But one of my guards needs treatment. His ankle broke when crossing one of the many ice-covered pathways."

Erestor frowned out of concern, truly this time. He stepped down the rest of the stairs and looked to find the said guard being helped down from his horse. Erestor turned his head and said to one of the Imladris guards, "Take him to the Healing Houses and see to it that he is treated." The guard nodded and went to follow his orders.

"I have already had servants prepare the barracks' spare beds for your guards. Food and drinks will be waiting them also there." Erestor said. "They need only follow one of the servants to go there."

Legolas' company instinctively looked towards him for his approval. Legolas nodded. "Go and get some rest. You need it."

Dismissed by their prince, the guards marched away following one of the ellyn leading them to the barracks.

"Come." Erestor said, turning. His robes whirled with his movement. "Your rooms have been prepared for you."

"How goes things here in Imladris?" Legolas asked, following Erestor up the steps.

"They go well enough. We have no threats over our borders and the days are uneventful. What matters to us at the moment is where our lords Elrohir and Elladan are." Legolas swallowed when he heard this. Once they entered the Last Homely House through a large archway and open dual doors, Erestor stopped and turned to him.

"Your rooms are the same ones that you have used before. I have already told them to draw your bath and to bring you food in your chambers. We have already had our lunch but I suspect some food would not go amiss for you."

"Really?" Legolas said, arching an eyebrow. "But I would have thought-"

Erestor gave him a wry smile. All of a sudden his frown seemed to disappear and his face seemed younger, more boyish. "You thought I would demand an answer here and now? Legolas Greenleaf, I would have thought you know me better that that. I am many things but I am not unkind. You look as if you could do with some rest. Besides, I have some things that I must see to. We will talk in the evening."

Erestor nodded once and left without another word. Legolas only frowned after him before turning on his heel and making his way to his rooms. He needed no servant to guide him; he knew his way well enough. He did not take his saddlebags, since the elves of Imladris took it as an insult if their guest would try to look after his things himself. The elves here were hospitable to a very large extent, and they were more patient that way, having seen many things from various types of guests. Finding his rooms, he pushed the door open, only glancing briefly down the corridor. Another corridor branched off the one he was standing in, leading to the twins' now empty bedrooms. Shaking his head, he entered.

He glanced briefly around the room. It was light and airy, with the windows already opening and letting in the valley breeze. The windows were not wooden shutters but wooden designs with glass fitted in between them. it was just as well; for Imladris witnessed heavy rains throughout the seasons but never snowfall. Floor length curtains of light brown in color flowed slightly inward with the wind. A round table stood facing the window, with two chairs surrounding it. A fireplace was set against a wall, with a mantelpiece above it. Opposite to it was a bed with four posters and bed curtains pulled back to reveal an embroidered bed cover over a simple bedspread. He unclasped his dual knives, followed by his bow and quiver and set it into the weapons stand within an arm's reach from his bed. He glanced over the bookshelf placed by the fireplace, painfully empty. There were few decorations, mostly vases full of valley flowers and the only other decoration was a carving of a doe with a fawn sitting on the mantelpiece.

True to Erestor's word, he found a bath ready for him. it was still very hot, so he waited and during his wait his saddlebags reached his rooms. Once he bathed, changed and ate, he finally went to the bed to get some rest.

When he awoke, he realized he had taken barely an hour or a little more than that for his nap. There was still an hour and a half left till evening. Deciding it was useless to remain in his rooms, he changed into presentable clothing and left his rooms.

The corridors in the Homely House were mostly closed, only a few opening in the air. This was due to the frequent rainfalls. He passed over one such corridor that overlooked the courtyard on one side and the gardens on the other. There were small holes on either side of it, to allow rainwater to run off the floor during rain. He passed it without lingering, making straight for the library.

The library of Imladris was much larger than the one in Eryn Lasgelen. The building was circular in shape, with two floors and winding stairs against the inner wall. The bookshelves were mostly arranged over the walls, full of books with only a few free bookshelves standing in the middle of the library in the form of neat rows. Here the library was much more famous for having books from a variety of places and written over a wide variety of topics. Some were even Noldorin in origin, passed down the families until they found their way into this library. There were others that were older still, with ancient Westron scribbled over the aging parchment. Tapestries decorated what walls were left, and many cases with clear glass stood for decorations, bearing ancient swords, knives and so forth. There was even a complete ceremonial armor set by the librarian's desk, Noldorin in origin and style.

He took the staircase, being well-acquainted with the library once he had had a brief chat with the librarian. There were fewer free bookshelves here, with three ladders again a wall for anyone who wished to take a book or so beyond their reach. Long tables were placed near the staircase, with chairs arranged around it. He found some ellyn and ellyth here and there, browsing books or immersed in their own studies. He even spotted a Dunadan in a corner but he did not greet him. Passing over the bookshelves, he let his fingers glide over the spines of the books of the bookshelves. One of them particularly stood out. He had been considering the idea of gifting Arodis something for her upcoming wedding (hopefully soon) with his friend. He once received pearls in a velvet pouch, a gift from Aragorn some months ago, and he had some free gems that he felt would look exquisite in jewelry but he had yet to consider some designs. He pulled the book out and he found it on Silvan customs, which also included sketches of traditional jewelry.

"That book was hard to find."

He turned around at the quiet voice. Erestor stood behind him, hands clasped at his front.

"The guards gave away where you were headed." Erestor said in reply to the question in Legolas' eyes. Then he nodded at the book. "The Silvan elves were never into documenting their traditions, cultures or history. The few books they had were not well preserved. Unlike the Noldorin. That breed will document even the smallest details if you allow them." Erestor shook his head. "Elrond was the same. All his books on health and medicine would include the smallest details and footnotes."

"Can I have this for a while?" Legolas said, raising the book in his hand.

"Of course, so long as you are here. But come, we have matters to discuss. That is why you are here, after all." Erestor said, turning. Knowing that he was expected to follow, he did after speaking to the librarian about the book he was taking with him. Erestor led him back to the main building of the House. He followed the tall elf all the way to his study, where Erestor opened the door for him to enter first before going in after him.

"Now, here we can talk business." Erestor said, closing the door behind him.

"Where is Glorfindel?"

"Out on patrol. He should be back this evening."

"I see."

"No, you do not. Do not be too relieved. He intends to question you himself should you ever arrive in his absence."

Legolas stifled an inward grimace. Erestor sat in front of the fireplace, unlit at the time and gestured to the chair in front of him. "Please."

They sat in quiet before Erestor stirred.

"We are only delaying what I need to know."

"They came soon after the War of the Ring." Legolas said. "After Arwen's wedding and after Lord Elrond set sail with Galadriel and the others. I had been on a patrol at the time. They did not want to be seen, preferring to remain hidden."

"What did they say?"

"They only said that they needed to make a journey. They had something to do and they merely wanted to tell someone what they had to do."

"What was it? What did they have to do?"

"I do not know."

"And you did not ask?" Erestor said, his temper erupting slightly. Legolas scowled.

"I am neither their father nor their guardian, Erestor."

"I would have thought you cared enough to stop them and learn where they were going!"

"I would have thought that for all your care, Erestor, you would have been able to learn all their destinations from their previous escapades!" Legolas snapped. Then he inhaled deeply, reining in his temper. "You know how they are like. Grim and fierce. I would not have argued with them. But I made them swear that it was nothing dangerous or life-threatening. I reminded them of their duty to their father's lands, to their dear sister but they would not relent. I had to let them go. Be angry with me if you wish but I had to let them go."

"Did you at least find out which direction did they go?"

"Aye, west."

Erestor looked surprised. "West?"

"Not to set sail, that they assured me. And they swore they would return in a matter of two years or two years and a half."

"It has been nearly three years since." Erestor said, worry settling over his features.

"I know. But they were adamant. They said that it was something they simply had to do."

"But why? What could they gain from this?"

"They said it was something concerning their father."

Erestor stayed silent before getting up and walking to the balcony, hands clasped behind his back.

"Do you know anything concerning this?" Legolas asked.

"Perhaps. I do not know. When evening drew knew on the day of Arwen's wedding, Elrond had taken a stroll down to the lower circles of Minas Tirith. He had returned shaken and pale in the face but he would not tell us why when we asked."

"And it did not trouble you?"

"At first. But then Elrond seemed more at peace and comforted so I said nothing until we found the twins missing."

"That is something I do not understand. How did you know that I would know where they would be?"

"Last month we finally were at worry's edge. Glorfindel and I searched their rooms looking for clues. We found these in their studies."

Erestor walked over to his desk and pulled out a straight parchment, handing it to Legolas. He recognized it as a map of Arda, but there were scribbles done everywhere. This was all the places the twins had been to, Legolas realized, studying it. Then he noticed some of the ink was markedly fresh, done along the coastline near Grey Havens. He noticed the dotted line of black ink making its way first to Mirkwood before arching and making way towards the coastline. It was a route, Legolas realized.

"The coastline? Why would they want to go there?"

"I was hoping you would shed some light. Evidently they trust you more than they trust us." The bitterness in Erestor's voice could not be mistaken.

"They came to me because they knew I would not stop them." Legolas said, setting the parchment on the side with a sigh. "I had been too lenient with them when I trained them in archery. Maybe if I had been sterner, they would have been more tamed and not so willful as to risk their lives."

"No, if you had been sterner, they would not have gone to you. Then we would not have known where they might be. And that is some consolation for me."

oOo

For Thranduil, his journey was much easier and quicker than the journey Legolas took to Imladris. They did not have to leave their forest. Instead, they continued riding through Eryn Lasgelen, not even bothering to use the roads since they were accustomed to the trees. Before Sauron was defeated, riding to Lorien was dangerous and at one point, foolhardy. But with the fall of the Dark Lord, accompanied by their constant skirmishes in Erny Lasgelen, they were able to drive out most if not all of the fell creatures living there. They opted to hunt in the evening. Some rabbits were more than enough for all of them. Thranduil helped as well, even so far as to going to dig a privy for them one time. His father, Oropher, was of the firm view that a leader should take part in the normal tasks of his people, to protect himself from arrogance. The guards tried to refuse, unused to see their king handle such a task where the Warriors would have found it completely ordinary. But Thranduil would not hear a word of it.

"I know how to dig a privy." Thranduil said with a wry smile. "We all need it at some point."

They relented, though it made them uncomfortable.

They had ridden in a canter, mostly, but one day, when they were close to the Southern borders and less than a day away from the river separating Lorien from Eryn Lasgelen, they went on a leisurely pace. They chatted occasionally but mostly remained silent, enjoying their surroundings. It had a rained a night before, so the earth smelled fresh and the birds were singing joyously in the trees. There was an occasional scurry of squirrels over trees or a hare running for cover. Suddenly a voice rose up from among them singing a song, bright and lively. Thranduil grinned as more elves joined in. The air seemed to lighten almost instantly, as whatever dark thoughts anyone harbored (if they harbored, for the day was to merry for such thoughts) was chased away from the tune.

It was after a while that Thranduil finally focused on listening to the words of the song. It took his attention because of the occasional sniggering and fresh bouts of laughter. Even Mithon was chuckling now and then as he listened, sometimes joining in to put in a word and raising another set of laughter. It was a bright and jolly tune, with the story of a young prince falling in love with the daughter of the people of the forest. It was humorously sarcastic with a lilt in their voices as they sang. Thranduil mock scowled, realizing the reference.

"What other songs you lot have written about me and my wife?" Thranduil demanded, turning around in his saddle. That did it. Some of the elves laughed outright, others had the grace enough to look sheepish and still others only smiled and ducked their heads at their cheekiness. But after a while it was apparent that none would dare answer him so he turned his attention to Mithon. The elf immediately raised his hands in defense.

"I have nothing to do with this."

"How long have you had such songs?"

"Well-"

"Mithon," Thranduil warned, raising a brow. Mithon sighed in defeat.

"Soon after you were wed and long after we were transferred to serve under you, during King Oropher's reign."

Thranduil sputtered. He had expected being the center of many songs but while he never heard one song, he had been put off guard. Finally, trying to regain what reputation he still might have left, he picked up his reins and prodded his horse to a canter instead of a walk.

"Come along! The sooner we reach the river, the faster we can cross it."

He tried to ignore the muffled laughter behind him.

They reached the fast flowing river in a few hours, its current fast. When the War ended and he and Celeborn renewed their boundaries, the first thing Celeborn had done was to have a bridge built over the river where the southern borders of the forest ended. They found it quickly enough and dismounted as they led their horses over it. It was built of stone and wide enough to allow three elves walk side by side with their horses. Once they crossed the river, they mounted again and rode. They reached Lorien a day later.

Thranduil leaned back on his horse, head tilting up to look at the trees. The forest of Lorien was completely different from the Eryn Lasgelen. The wood was lighter in color, almost light grey. The girths of these trees were wide and thick, and they grew higher than the trees of Eryn Lasgelen. The leaves changed color throughout the seasons, while the trees of the Eryn Lasgelen kept their greenish-black leaves. He let go of his reins, trusting his horse to go on without the need of guidance.

Mithon was riding beside him. He had taken a small company of ten, for he did not plan to stay very long. His own kingdom had need of him and although he trusted Thorontur to handle it all on his own, he preferred to look after his people himself.

_"The trees are dying."_

Mithon's words were true. The trees were aging rapidly, which was unhealthy. He could feel the trees changing their nature, from youth to old maturity, as if time had finally learned to catch up to them. But they were not only aging, but also diminishing. He knew rumors of Galadriel's Power from her Ring. She had never told him what the Ring allowed her to do but when the years passed and her city did not age, he knew. She controlled preservation of her forest. That was what made him so uncomfortable under these trees. Here time passed so slowly that it was almost frightening. Whenever he had returned, the trees were almost the same as the time he had left them. It was strange and unnatural, though he knew that the Galadhrim preferred it that way and so he kept his silence. But whenever he cast his eyes towards Lorien, he loved his own forest even more. Eryn Lasgelen was a living proof of their strength and unity. It was a sign of a people who were able to stand up on their own, without the use of a Ring. There was a time, though, that he and his father had resented Celembrimbor and Cirdan and everyone who had to do with them for not giving a Ring to Eryn Galen, which was rapidly turning into a dark forest at that time. But now he did not resent it once. He realized that the Ring of Power was not a blessing but a burden. How could one tame its Power and how could one rein in his own desire to use it? No, Thranduil and his father were better off without it.

_"There was a time when I used to think I could not have defeated the enemy without one of the Rings of Power. But now that I see what can happen when the Rings are gone, I am glad I did not have it."_

_"You had us."_

Thranduil smiled.

_"Aye, I had all of you."_

They had gone on for another half hour before a call came from the trees.

_"Halt! Who goes there?" _

Annoyed, Thranduil stopped his horse and looked up.

_"If you look beyond your branches, and especially the arrowhead you are pointing at me, Haldir Marchwarden, then perhaps you would recognize me and my company. That is, if age has not caught up with you elves as it had done with your forest." _Thranduil snapped, making the guards behind him stifle their chuckles and assume serious masks. Thranduil's words, while hard, did not possess that cutting edge and were not meant to harm. There was silence, and then a rustle of leaves before an elf dropped down from one of the nearby trees. He had pale golden hair, spilling over his shoulders at the movement from under the hood. His bow, in contrast to what Thranduil jested, was still strung across his back. Other elves also came down from the trees, dressed in the same grey garments as Haldir was dressed in. the only item of his garments that denoted his status as the leader of the wardens was his brooch, and intricately designed, clasping his cloak in place. Haldir pulled off his hood. The Silva looked considerably amused, if not a little chastened. He bowed low to Thranduil, noting his riding attire and the slim circlet the king only wore when he rode or went to battle. Where Haldir bowed, the other elves knelt.

_"My sincerest apologies, my King." _The Silva said, raising his head. The other elves rose as well. Majority of the elves in Lorien were either Silvan or Silvan in origin, but unlike their brethren in Eryn Lasgelen, they had developed a stronger sense of protocol. If it was not for the fact that Thranduil disliked standing ceremony and such, Haldir and his wardens would not address him in familiarity. _"Our habits have changed since the War and it is more difficult than usual to draw a bow when facing newcomers, whoever they may be."_

_"My people are the same." _Thranduil said, letting the matter at rest. He truly could not blame them. Even his habits were difficult to change since the War. Thranduil dismounted, pulling off his gloves as he made his way to Haldir. Behind him, Mithon and the other guards did the same. He and Haldir clasped hands.

_"You look well since I saw you last." _Thranduil commented. The last time he had seen Haldir was when he escorted both Celeborn and Thranduil to the southern side of Mirkwood, where they renewed their borders and renamed Mirkwood to Eryn Lasgelen. Haldir had been injured at the time but the elf did not relent in his duties.

_"As are you." _Haldir returned, releasing him. _"Come, we can offer you food and drink up on our flets. The horses you can leave with some of my wardens and they will take care of your belongings."_

Haldir led them up to the trees, where many of the rope ladders were thrown down for them. climbing them, they reached the flet. They had taken off the single movable screen that Thranduil knew they used to protect them from the wind. There was no wind at the time and the screen was dismantled and rested against the trunk. Some of the wardens were sitting in a group and they nodded and murmured a greeting which they replied to. Haldir led them to another flet, connect only by two ropes, one of which was used for support and another for walking. Thranduil looked at it with slight hesitation. He was not used to such contraptions of the Silvan elves as his son was.

_"You are using my Sindarin blood against me, Haldir." _Thranduil told him just before going on the rope. The Marchwarden only chuckled in response but did not make any reply. Thranduil went much slower. His escort moved considerably faster on the rope, even to the point of barely touching the supporting rope.

"The least you could have done was to move slower for my sake." Thranduil complained to Mithon when the elf climbed off the rope and reached the floor of the flet.

"I would but Lord Thorontur told me not to let you be fooled if ever the case arose in which we needed to cross flets."

"Oh, he and I will have words. I can assure you."

Once they had all reached the flet, Haldir and some other elves offered them food and drink which they accepted gratefully. While he ate, Thranduil noted the vigilance of the wardens and how they stood while on guard.

_"have you been having problems on your borders, Haldir?" _Thranduil asked, turning to the Silva who sat across them. Haldir had drawn up his knees to his chin, arms clasped around his calves. His hesitation was enough.

_"A little," _Haldir said slowly. _"Forgive me, I think it best if you spoke of it with Lord Celeborn. As a warden, I am not free to say."_

Thranduil nodded and let the matter at rest. He intended to ask his kin on such things any way. Once they had rested and were refreshed, they made their way back to the ground. fresh horses were brought for them, their own were resting nearby.

_"We will send someone to bring these horses to you after they are rested and fed." _Haldir said, taking the reins of a black stallion and offering it to Thranduil. He accepted it. Their saddlebags have already been placed on the new horses.

_"I cannot lead you there myself. My duties force me to remain here." _Haldir told them once they had all mounted. _"But follow Rhosgon. He would lead you there and see to whatever needs you may have." _Thranduil glanced at the dark-haired, solemn-faced Silva that Haldir gestured towards. The elf nodded at him before reaching for his horse and mounting it.

It took them another day's ride to reach Caras Galadhon. They were able to go forward on a gallop, a fact that worried Thranduil immensely. There had been a time when Lorien was so lush with trees that the horses were forced to keep to a trot at the most. That was a defense in some ways, since it stopped the orcish forces from going into a full assault, but here the trees had diminished and he suspected some have been cut down over the months, if anything could be judged from the newly turned earth where the elves would have removed even the roots.

Caras Galadhon; it was the highest peak of the land, being something like a cross between a fortress and a city. The walls of it were high, higher even than the ones of Thranduil's Halls. The high trees were still visible from a distance. Here aging seemed to have slowed somewhat, the trees still retaining some of their former beauty while Artanis was still present among them.

But in spite of the dying forest around them, the city was well-inhabited. There was not the laughter and the music that Thranduil remembered during the Second Age. The comparison then was extremely vast but it was well-populated. Lorien had not suffered as great a loss of people as Thranduil did, and they were not inflicted by the feeling of sea-longing like the elves of Imladris.

_"I could lead the guards to the guest flets." _The warden said, reining in his horse. "_Your rooms must already be prepared, Sire. I could take you there and inform Celeborn of your presence."_

_"There is no need." _Thranduil said. _"Escort my guards to their guest flets. I can go on. I know my way."_

_"I will go and see if your rooms are ready once I see to your company." _The warden said.

One of the things the Silvan elves of Lorien were not used to was the casual way Thranduil always ended up on their Lord and Lady's (departed Lady's) doorstep. Thranduil ignored the queer look he got from the Sentinel when he went up the steps to look for his Lord while Thranduil waited at the base of the tree. It was only a while later when the Silva came bounding down again, going on such a high pace down the steps with such ease that Thranduil half-expected him to trip and fall the rest of the steps, but no such thing occurred.

_"Lord Celeborn waits for you above." _The Sentinel said, resuming his regular stance. Thranduil nodded and went up the steps, pushing back his cloak.

He found Celeborn standing by a fence, one hand on the railing, face turned away from him. in looks, he resembled his father much, but his hair was silver instead of golden and he was much more broad-shouldered than Oropher was. Dressed in a light blue, knee-length tunic with a white shirt underneath and matching leggings and light shoes, he seemed more Teleri than Sindarin, even.

"Your declaration of a visit had caught me off guard." Celeborn said, sensing his presence before turning his head. Celeborn glanced over him. "You did not change or refresh yourself before you came to me."

Thranduil wore a genuine scowl.

"If that is how you feel, cousin, then I will take my leave and you may expect me whenever I feel the urge to meet you again."

Thranduil turned, actually intending to go when Celeborn's much softer voice stopped him.

"No, stay. Forgive me. I had not meant to sound so."

Thranduil turned to face him. Celeborn studied his face for a moment before rubbing the back of his neck.

"Well-met, Oropherion."

"Well-met, Celeborn."

Another silence descended upon them. finally, Thranduil could not contain himself. "Well?" Thranduil demanded.

"What?"

"Give me a drink! I have ridden all the way from your borders to this accursed tree you live in only to be rebuffed and then called back again!"

He had not meant to speak so bluntly. His time with his people made him too frank in words and flowery phrases was only something he could hold for so long. But it did well. Celeborn threw his head back and laughed.

"Come," Celeborn said, reaching out for him and placing a hand on his shoulder. "You are one of the few to tell me so. I have not been a gracious host; else I would have sent someone to meet you properly or even gone to the borders to meet you myself. It is just very hard for me to remain the same way I was ever since my wife left."

"I shall have to replenish my store now that you are here." Celeborn said, eyes twinkling as he poured him a crystal goblet.

"You shall have to relinquish your keys to your store now that I am here." Thranduil quipped, taking off his cloak and spreading it on the back of a chair. He then accepted the offered goblet. Celeborn chuckled and shook his head.

"You and your wine."

They sat in silence for a moment, but it was much lighter than the one they shared by the fence.

"Why are you here?" Celeborn asked, breaking the silence. "You did not explain the reason of your visit."

"I came to see if you were well."

"I am well."

"You have not been answering my letters."

"I know."

"You did not answer the letter where I told you about my upcoming arrival. I was unsure if I would be well received."

"The line of Oropher will always be well-received." Celeborn said after a pause.

"You grieve for my father." Thranduil said.

"Aye, I grieve for him. Not a day goes pass that I do not think of him." Celeborn shifted in his chair. "If we had not parted on harsh terms, I would have not worried myself so, but the way he died and-"

"I understand."

"You should know that I always cared for your father. He was my dearest friend. We grew together."

"You told me many times." Thranduil said. He traced the edge of the goblet in his hands before finally placing it at a side, only half-finished. "I had come to tell you to return to the way you once were. You have ignored many things as of late. I am very sure that Evenstar called you many times to visit her in Minas Tirith."

"No she did not."

"Yes, she did." Thranduil said firmly. "You are acting a like a petulant child. She sent me a letter. She was worried about you."

"The entire line of Elrond is meddlesome."

"She did what she thought best!" Thranduil said. "I came as fast as I could from my kingdom, straight here when I could have gone to my rooms to rest. Your granddaughter is Queen, she wants your company, you have children from your granddaughter and you wallow here in your depression-"

"I am not wallowing in depression."

Thranduil merely raised an eyebrow and Celeborn looked away.

"Sometimes I hate how older you sound than I."

Thranduil gave an amused snort.

"Elrohir and Elladan are still nowhere to be found." Celeborn said, drumming the fingers of his free hand on his armrest. "Where could they have gone?"

"I do not know but what I do know is that you had enough of your time spent here in this house of yours."

"You still have trees as your rivals, don't you?"

"Not to the same extent as I did once. Although, they can still be exasperating."

As if on cue, the tree rumbled and shook, making the pitcher and the other cutlery rattle and the furniture to shift.

"Try to be nice." Celeborn said mildly. "I live here."

Thranduil glanced a wary eye around the room before leaning back in his chair.

"You are right." Celeborn said thoughtfully. "I have spent far too much time here."

"Indeed."

They fell back to silence.

"So tell me," Celeborn said. Thranduil could almost hear the smile in his voice. Looking up, he was right. There was a smile creeping up Celeborn's face. "Did you come all the way from Eryn Lasgelen just to see if I was well?"

Thranduil stiffened. "I merely had free time in my hands."

"Thranduil, I did not know you cared."

"I do not." Celeborn smirked.

"There are a few things that I do wish to discuss with you, if you are here." Celeborn said. "But you should take some rest and relax for today. We can speak later."

"Does mine host actually give me permission to leave?" Thranduil asked.

"I am not that an ungracious host." Celeborn retorted. "In fact, your rooms should be ready by now. You can wander in the city if you like. Nothing has changed since you last came here, except for some minor things here and there. But do try to take a bath first. You look terrible. And if you require anything, do feel free to ask."

"Oh I will. What kind of a guest would I be if I do not want to impose on my host?"

Celeborn chuckled.

oOo

He looked warily up at the cluster of trees. This region of Lorien was dominated by his wife's house. They had originally lived in Greenwood, but when evil entered the forest, they moved to Lorien a little while into the Third Age. At least, that was what they had told Thranduil when they were leaving. Thranduil, however, suspected that it was something else, but he never pushed them or asked them. Instead he simply accepted their excuse.

It had been a little less than Age, since he last visited them. Troubles in Eryn Lasgelen and the strained relationships between him and the other Realms made him reclusive to his forest. Besides that fact, he had placed his attention in strengthening his ties with Lonely Mountain, Dale and Lake-town, a move that he did not regret.

He took the ladder up to the first flet he saw. When he reached the flet, he studied the house in front of him. It was built in the same Lorien fashion, with curvings and designs all typical for Lorien elves. He glanced once at the banner hanging beside the door, the symbol same of his wife's house before reaching up and giving a knock. He waited and soon the door was answered.

He came face to face to an astonishing resemblance of his wife in male form. A slim elf answered the door, almost the same height as Thranduil with long, heavy black hair and bright blue eyes. He recognized him the same time as Thranduil did him.

"Thranduil," his voice was the same; even and controlled. "Well-met. It has been a while."

"It has been a long while, my friend." Thranduil said. Laegon stood at side, allowing him to enter. He glanced at his wife Arodien's older brother. The resemblance never ceased to amaze him, often times it was so great to catch him at unaware.

"Forgive me, you have caught me a little unprepared, I am afraid. I had not known that you would come visiting." Laegon said, gesturing him to sit. Then his brow furrowed slightly. "I did not even know that you were here."

"I had come to visit Lord Celeborn." Thranduil said.

"Ah, I see."

The house was painfully quiet.

"Where are your parents?"

Pain flickered in Laegon's gaze and Thranduil reprimanded himself for asking.

"You did not know? Father was shot down some years ago before the War started. He was returning with his company from Imladris. None survived. Mother faded soon after."

"I apologize." Thranduil said quietly. Sighing, the elf made to sit beside Thranduil. The elf, being Legolas' uncle, bore some forms of resemblance with Thranduil's son, but they were very subtle. Legolas bore more of his paternal side in him than he did from his mother.

"What of your wife? Is she well?"

"Oh, very. She went with some of the other ellyth. My daughter is with them also."

An awkward silence fell between them. Thranduil honestly did not know what else to say. He hadonly come because Legolas had told him that his mother's kin were still present in Lothlorien. It was that time when he realized that a long time had passed since he last visited or got in touch with them. it made him feel guilt.

"Have you ever thought of sailing?" Thranduil said.

"I have given it more thought than you realize."

"So why linger?"

"I am not really sure. Part of me thinks it is time for me to take the ships and yet another part insists that I remain. I feel that my time has to come but it is not here yet. Added to that," Laegon's face curved into a smile. "I have nothing to do but sit here and think. There was a time when our markets were thriving with trinkets and such, a time when we used to have many tournaments and games to amuse ourselves but now it feels as if we have all become stagnant. That with age passing us by, we have forgotten how to keep ourselves occupied."

Thranduil listened to Laegon's long speech. They settled back to silence, less uncomfortable than it had been before. Then Laegon started when Thranduil placed a hand on his wrist.

"Come back with me to my Halls." Thranduil said.

"I cannot."

"Why not?"

Laegon fell silent. He remained silent for so long that Thranduil felt he was not going to answer. He sighed and got up. Something changed between him and his wife's kin. They had gotten on well together, to the point of camaraderie. Laegon even had gone on so far as to be their 'chaperon' while he had been courting Arodien (and even sported an impish smile when Thranduil wanted to strangle him). but those fond memories seemed nothing. The house was extremely quiet. there was no laughter or clanking of cutlery or feminine chatter coming from the inner rooms. In fact, Thranduil thought, furrowing his brow. His wife's kin seemed out of sorts from the time they took their leave from Eryn Lasgelen. Their smiles had been strained. But Thranduil shook his head. He had no wish to confront him on matter so long ago and only cause a greater strain. They had welcome Legolas with open arms and warm smiles when his son came to Lorien with his Fellowship. That was all that matter. He made to go for the door, hand reaching out when Laegon said behind him, "I am sorry."

Thranduil froze, hand still outstretched. Then he retracted it and turned back.

"What?"

"You never asked," Laegon said slowly, still staring ahead. "You never asked us why we left."

"I did not see the reason to. My father's people were free to do as they would."

"When Annatar came to us," Laegon said, looking down at his hands that clasped his knees. Thranduil stiffened. So there was a reason. "We trusted him because our king trusted him. Oropher was not one to be fooled. But when he showed his true presence and the events that followed, how our king became dark and bitter." Thranduil swallowed, knowing what Laegon meant. "We possessed great fear then. We lost many of our kin and kith on the day when Oropher led us out."

"I am well aware."

"When you took the throne, we were worried you would succumb to the darkness just like your father had done. Suddenly we were not so sure to support you. We decided to leave."

"To go to those who suspected Annatar from the start," Thranduil finished. Laegon nodded.

"We asked Arodien to come with us."

Thranduil looked at him sharply. This he did not know. His wife hid secrets well, if she hid something as great as this.

"She was insulted and offended. She refused. She was hurt too, to see that we doubted you." Laegon said. Then he looked up at the king warily. "You are not angry."

"No."

"Why?"

Thranduil sighed.

"When you are an elf who lived in Doriath, distant kin to King Thingol, and watched the madness that follows for the sake of pride and holding grudges, you tend to learn to control your anger." Thranduil grimaced. "Still, I cannot wholly dispel mine but I try. As to what you have told me, no, I am not angry."

He returned to his seat beside Laegon and touched his shoulder. "I am sorry too."

Laegon turned away, eyes suddenly glistening in tears. Thranduil frowned.

"Laegon, have you ever- did you even let yourself grieve over your parents' passing?"

The elf gave a broken laugh. "I did not. I fear for fading the same way as my mother had done."

Thranduil just placed his arm around his shoulder, both of them staring at their laps.

"Thank you. for coming and for understanding," Laegon said.

"I still loathe your interference in my courtship."

"Now look who is holding grudges."

He will heal, Thranduil consoled himself as he glanced at his brother by marriage.

oOo

His rooms were blessedly free of drama and emotion when he returned. He took a luxurious time in a bath then by the window before lying on the bed for a restful sleep… until Thorontur's mind pressed against his. He gave an inward groan.

_~Who insulted who?~ _Thranduil asked Thorontur in a matter of greeting.

_~Himben and Dorián have been in a strained relationship ever since you left.~_

_~Keep an eye on Himben. Dorián has been in his utmost manners, exempting the times when he took benefits from all the 'inconveniences' his comrades created.~_

_~Well, he has been interfering quite a bit. Hanon seemed to think that strangling him might bring a solution.~_

_~Tell Hanon if he does than I will personal see to it that his wife wreaks havoc.~_

Thorontur's laughter rocked the link.

_~Ah, I will tell him! His look will be priceless. I also found out who the mischief-makers were with regards to Arodis and Dorián.~_

_~Really? Who was it?~_

_~Himben's own wife.~_

Thranduil stood stunned for a moment before letting his laughter reach Thorontur.

_~Truly? It seems my librarian's family is conspiring against him.~_

_~Indeed.~_

_~What have you done then?~_

_~Sire, what could I have done? I just looked and left them to sort it on their own. And you know what else? Almost all the ellyth have resorted into helping Arodis for getting married soon whether Himben likes it or not. It started just after you left.~_

_~Why just after I left?~_

_~Apparently you have an intimidating aura. I don't.~_

_~You sound disappointed.~_

_~Not really, no.~_

_~Do you plan to interfere?~_

_~My wife is one of the ellyth who is helping the pair. She assured me if I tried taking any steps in helping Himben then they would make sure I would regret it.~_

_~Such chaos so soon after I left.~_

_~I think the ellyth were simply looking for the right moment. Anyway, I am currently trying to avoid Himben. I intend of letting you look after it once you return. Or your son perhaps. Either way, I am not taking any steps in this case.~_

_~Do not let my son take in charge of it! He will get them both married within a few hours if he is given the power to resolve this.~_

_~Speaking of Dorián,~ _Thorontur said. _~He knows about his father.~_

_~What! How did he find out?~_

_~Fion told him.~_

_~Sometimes I hate my dear friend.~_

_~Fion suspected that part of the reason why Dorián kept going back to Dol Guldur was to find his father. He was right.~_

_~But?~ _Thorontur's tone made it clear that he wanted to say something else as well.

_~He is not sleeping well, or so his servants tell me.~_

_~At least he tried sleeping.~_

_~Hmm, I am going to have Hanon try to talk to him. that should kill two birds with one stone.~_

_~What else happened in my absence?~_

_~Oh, the usual. This was just about the only exciting thing. Without the war and the occasional skirmishes, paperwork could be so dreary.~_

_~Maybe it is time you left that study then.~_

_~That hare-brained contraption Hanon made is working famously. In fact, it is starting to become a familiar haunt.~_

_~Good, I am glad the elves are enjoying it.~_

_~What of Lorien?~_

Thranduil filled him in with the details.

_~Sad, is it not.~ _Thorontur said. _~It is a bit strange. When darkness fell on Greenwood the first time, I always thought we would be the first to succumb to sea-longing or melancholy. But instead-~_

_~I know.~_

_~Get some rest, Sire. It seems I have been found out by Himben. I should go and sort the matters out.~_

_~HA! Enjoy yourself!~_

Thranduil grinned, comfortably lying back on the bed. At least he was not the one stuck between a betrothed pair with irate ellyth on one side and an annoyed father on the other.

**~S~**

**Author's Note:**

Review please. :)

**To my dear readers:**

I am so sorry to have to do this. I was originally planning to put this chapter up on the end of December because my finals are starting and will end sometime near January. But I relented. Unfortunately the sacrifice is that I have to cut the replies short (and maybe cannot reply them at all). I am so very sorry. But let me tell you each review is amazing and comforts my heart and I enjoy reading it so much.

To cheekybeak, yes. Bard is not THE Bard. Brand dies in the War and his son is his successor and his name is Bard. I kind of thought that not all the kings could be all nice and this just seemed more realistic to me.

To tommyginger, I am glad, lol, and your description of Thranduil was perfect. I am glad I got that on the paper. :)

To smiley and brightpath2, thanks for your reviews. :)


	5. Ithilien Forest

**Chapter 4**

He had been unable to meet Celeborn immediately the next day, due to his daily lordly duties. he bided his time, wandering and conversing with the elves he recognized. Some of them, he was sorry to see, were not present. He learned some had fallen, and others had already set sail. He met with his guards at the practicing fields and took to sparring with them for the time. His time went that way, with Thranduil noting how time now passed regularly under the trees and not in a dream-like state.

He met with Celeborn after dinner, when the Lord of Lorien retired to his rooms.

"I see you still kept up with your skills in wood carving," Thranduil called to the neighbouring bedroom, while admiring a large scaled project of Doriath. It was a precious project that Celeborn started after the First War of the Ring. Upon a large table was an impressive size of Doriath, the most detailed woodwork he had ever seen. Celeborn even took it one step further, where the palace opened in sections, revealing detailed, miniature rooms with hanging banners and arranged furniture. He was always perfecting it, adding more details than ever, but there were no people; Celeborn was never able to master making figurines.

"Galadriel said more than once that I would find it difficult to carry such a piece to Valinor." Celeborn's voice replied from his bedroom. "I do hope she is not correct. What of you? I recall that you dabbled your hand in wood carving now and then."

"Only on bitter and cold nights when there is nothing left to do but wait for the enemy." Thranduil answered, clasping his hands behind his back and bending forward at the waist to study the city further. "I have only either taken up a sword and a pen recently."

"What of the stories you used to write? Arwen and her brothers enjoyed your stories very much."

"I am afraid I simply did not have the time. But perhaps I will now." Thranduil said, glancing when a flurry of movement caught his eye and Celeborn appeared, clad in simple red tunic with white shirt and brown trousers. "You look terrible in red." Thranduil stated.

"Galadriel says the same thing."

"For once I will have to agree with Artanis."

"Galadriel," Celeborn corrected.

"Artanis," Thranduil said calmly.

"I will never understand why you refuse to call her Galadriel when everyone else does."

"I may be her distant kin by your marriage but I am not the admirer who gave her that name."

Celeborn laughed and raised up his hands in surrender. "Point conceded."

"Now tell me, what was it that you wished to speak to me of?" Thranduil asked.

"This matter was meant to be held in our council room with you but I felt to approach you first in person." Thranduil raised a brow.

"You have my curiosity and attention."

"Contrary to your belief, I have been in touch now and then with Gondor but more with Estel than with my dear granddaughter. He proposed an idea that interested me."

"Let me guess," Thranduil interrupted. "Building a city in Ithilien forest, a settlement if you will, for the elves to stay."

"How did you-"

"You are not the only one who received such a letter. And assuming that both of us did, it can be safe to say that Erestor received one as well."

"And what have you to say in this matter?"

"It is a fairly large matter." Thranduil said after a pause. "The idea has appeal and I am certain that there are elves who will have no problems from moving to a new forest. Also, I seem to recall that Legolas had promised aid in planting and managing the gardens of Minas Tirith."

"But?"

"You know as well as I that this is a delicate matter. Men have never been one to allow foreigners on their land for permanent basis. Also, this will require a lot of work. Building an entire city, fortifying it, setting up the trade, establishing allies, keeping up with the relations with other nobles, this is very difficult work. And I have yet to see who we will ask to support such a position."

"As far as the Men are concerned, Estel has made it clear that he is allied with the elves, and that gives us an advantage. None will harm the Queen's kin and kith as well. To start off the trade, all three of the Elven Realms can put together enough wealth to start off the city. Fortifications will have to come from all three Realms as well. Imladris suffered the least in this regard. Now all the rest of the points you have raised depends exactly on the leader we appoint for the city. We could consider Erestor, except that he is currently ruling Imladris and is unable to do anything at the moment. Glorfindel will never agree."

"He is completely content as a Seneschal." Thranduil said. Celeborn nodded.

"Precisely. You could also be considered, given your repute with the Silvan, Sindarin and Avari-"

"No," Thranduil said flatly. "I am fine with my kingdom as it is."

"I knew you would say that. I refuse to leave my place as it is. I am content where I am and I am not keen to start a new city and build everything from nothing. I was thinking of bringing someone younger, who is able to keep up with the rest of the nobles at an easy pace."

"And that is?"

"I was thinking about your son."

Thranduil was silent until the meaning completely set in.

"No."

"Thranduil-"

"He will never agree to it." Thranduil warned. "My son made it very clear to me that he wants nothing to do with duties that govern an entire population. He made it even more clear by saying that he would only work as an advisor and a Commander of his division of Rangers and nothing more."

"Perhaps if we try again-"

"You think I have not?" Thranduil interrupted. "Legolas would not agree. The idea of ruling intimidates him."

"If it administration he is concerned about then he has handled himself very well when it came to Rohan."

Thranduil stared at the other elf for a while before muttering, "You have been well-informed."

"And if he is concerned about making allies and maintaining relations, then, well, my nobles seemed to find him amiable enough and he has developed a great deal of camaraderie with my wardens and Sentinels. Your son does not give himself credit." Celeborn tilted his head to a side, studying Thranduil. "Much like his father."

Thranduil clenched his teeth.

"I am not averse to the idea of moving to Ithilien forest, neither to the idea of Legolas leading this city, if it does indeed come to existence. What interests me is why would Estel invite us into his lands?"

"I think there are more reasons than one. Elven work is better than Mannish work. It only explains a way to improve trade. Another reason may be to better improve relations. It goes without saying that we are more capable to help in the tree of Ithilien the same way as the Dwarves work in the Glittering Caves of Rohan. Also," Celeborn paused and spoke more quietly. "I believe my granddaughter misses her people."

"Poor child." Thranduil said. "She is full grown and quite capable of thinking herself but I do not think she was fully prepared to realize what her choice of mortality meant. I cannot think what it is like to live in a foreign lands with mortals and know that kin pass to the West. But I doubt she regrets her choice."

"I do not think she does, no."

"She has spirit." Thranduil said. After a pause, he added a bit reluctantly, "She has taken after Artanis, I will grant her that."

"Oh, now that I am sure to tell Galadriel when I next meet her."

"Do not. I have a reputation to uphold."

"Too late," Celeborn said smirking.

"How exactly do you intend to convince your people to leave Lorien?"

Celeborn sobered. "This forest is dying. It is aging rapidly. I know that you have felt it. It is already diminishing and fading. I think the time has come to leave it to sleep. I will still linger for a while but already my people grow restless. Perhaps a change of scenery and a different lifestyle would be well for them."

"it will be a permanent change of scenery." Thranduil warned. "This land is dying, you are correct but it will fade completely once the last of the elves is gone from here. The mellyrn trees will no longer be the way you remember them. and how in Arda are they even going to survive in Ithilien? It will be a Man's world, where Westron dominates over Sindarin or Silvan dialects. Your people do not know Westron."

"Languages can be taught." Celeborn said dismissively. "As for Lorien, we all know what is to come. So what say you? What of Eryn Lasgelen?"

Thranduil laughed. "If I know my people better than I already do, they will be most interested. In fact, they will take it on as a challenge. My people are curious. And if Legolas leads them, they will be even more willing. They love him dearly. But this must be dicussed further before giving Estel a proper reply as to what he may expect from us."

"Then we will wait until then. First of all, we have to see if Legolas is even willing to take on leadership. Then we can discuss this with our people, otherwise it will be all for naught."

"Like I said, Legolas will not be too keen in accepting this role." Thranduil repeated his warning. Celeborn grinned, a gleam in his eyes that reminded Thranduil too much of his own father.

"Oh, do not worry." He said. "I expect Glorfindel and Erestor doing a fine job in persuading him."

oOo

The practicing ring reminded him just how much he hated swords, Legolas thought sourly.

He deflected Glorfindel's blow with his practice sword, hating every single moment of it. Swords were loud and clumsy, horrible to use in the trees with no grace but brute strength behind it. They moved differently too, moving on to completely different pattern of attack. It was more straightforward then dual knives, which required keen eyes that looked for minor openings and weaknesses in the opponent's guard.

Glorfindel, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying the younger elf's discomfort. he was the same height as Legolas, but heavily muscled and broad-shouldered with a firm jawline and stern pale grey eyes set under finely arched eyebrows. He kept his hair longer than most, gleaming golden, almost fiery golden in the sunlight.

"You are very slow." Glorfindel said, unlatching his practice sword from Legolas' and stepping back.

"I was not trained in handling swords and well you know it." Legolas shot back. Glorfindel gave him a cold smile before lunging at him. Legolas parried and side stepped, the other elf following him. Legolas feinted at his left before swinging his practice sword on the other direction. He caught Glorfindel at his knee.

"You are disabled." Legolas said. The practicing field was empty. No one wanted to see the twins' two former mentors come to blows, though he suspected a discrete crowd peeking through the windows or finding an excuse to pass by and catch a glimpse. Glorfindel already caught his left arm, mock disabling him earlier. The older elf frowned and pushed forward. One thing was for sure, where Legolas was quick and agile, Glorfindel possessed brute strength and years of experience to favor him. This had been going on for a while. Both of them were breathing hard, and Legolas was perspiring.

Legolas swung his sword in an upward stroke, but Glorfindel held up his own wooden blade, causing it to slide harmlessly off his side before passing his sword forward and catching Legolas in the kidney.

"You are wounded. Not fatal." Glorfindel said, stepping back and swinging his blade. They circled one another before Glorfindel lunged forward, suddenly pushing Legolas in a defensive. It did not take long for Legolas to find an opening. Ducking to avoid a move meant to catch his neck, he lunged for Glorfindel's chest, but the elf assessed his movements and side stepped, causing Legolas to sail past him. Then he felt the hard smack of wood against his back.

"Dead!" Glorfindel pronounced. Breathing heavily, Legolas relented and sat down on the tiled ground, practice sword resting between his bent legs and bowing his head in an effort to maintain his breathing. Glorfindel, who had just began to sweat, sat down beside him.

"you did not win even once." Glorfindel said between breaths.

"I told you I was not trained for swordfight. You could hardly expect anything else."

The two fell silent.

"So has your anger with me quenched to some degree?" Legolas asked, wiping sweat from his brow.

"Some but not all." Glorfindel replied coolly. Legolas glanced at him. Erestor had warned him that Glorfindel had a bone to pick with him. The two of them had been at it since breakfast and it was now nearly noon. He glanced up to the windows of the Homely House facing practicing ring. Some of the heads ducked out of sight when he looked.

"I think we scared everyone off the ring."

"Be that as it may." Glorfindel said, wiping his face with his hands.

"I cannot ask for forgiveness." Legolas said, breaking the silence between them. "It was not my fault that they confided in me."

"I am not angry that they confided in you." Glorfindel replied. "I had hoped that they may have left this life of disappearing from the city to wander and then return unannounced. Ever since their mother's capture and release, they have been this way. I had hoped with the war ending, they would take up their place here as lords instead of wandering like a Ranger in the Wild."

Legolas stayed silent.

"Their eyes burn," Glorfindel continued. "Have you ever noticed it?"

"Aye, I did."

"Like the Noldorin whose blood runs in their veins." Glorfindel shook his head. "I have never seen it so prominent in a Noldorin descendant."

"You are worried more about their welfare."

"What if they have been captured? Lost and wandering? Or perhaps forgotten where they come from and live different lives? It is a wide and dangerous world. Anything can happen-"

"They will be back." Legolas said firmly. "I know it in my heart."

Glorfindel looked at him and then gave a small smile before shaking his head. "You possess such certainty. Very well, I believe you. I will wait a little while longer but if three or four years pass and they do not yet return then… ah, I do not know what I will do."

oOo

"You want me for what?" Legolas asked in disbelief.

"I think your hearing is not addled." Erestor said mildly.

"No." Legolas said. "I refuse."

"Legolas-"

"Do you have any idea how difficult it will be?" Legolas asked, sitting forward and placing his hand on the table. "To begin a city, find the people to come and to reinforce it..."

"All of which you are very capable of doing." Glorfindel said. Legolas whirled around in his seat, glaring at the fair elf who was calmly sitting facing the window. He even had the audacity for smiling serenely in reply to Legolas' withering glare.

"He is not wrong." Erestor said, becoming the victim of Legolas' glare. He, too, took it very calmly.

"And why would you think that people would even follow me to Ithilien?"

"You have a greater reach than you think, Legolas." Erestor said, tapping a finger on his temple. "You are very well liked by the elves here in Imladris, your own people love you and you have kin in Lorien. I doubt you will have trouble persuading them."

"And why would you think that Men will accept me?"

"Recently you have spent more time in the Mannish Realms than any of us. in fact, you fought with them in their battles-"

"Those battles were for all Arda-" Legolas interrupted. Erestor fixed him with a withering look of his own but Legolas merely smiled back at him. It was amusing to ruffle Erestor's feathers.

"You fought alongside them. You know them more than anyone else. And because you have fought with them you have become a symbol or a representative of Elves. I am sure you will not have a problem in living up to their expectations."

"Even if that is true, there are more things to consider. To establish trade, to prepare wood and furniture… moving to the forest will not be easy."

"If it is aid you are speaking of, you will be given it. That we can assure you."

Legolas rubbed his temples wearily, feeling overwhelmed.

"I do not know what to say."

"I simply want you to think it over. We will speak over some of the matter which may be pressing on your mind. But you will be given aid. You will have advisors, guards, soldiers."

"Have you spoken of this to anyone else, Lord Celeborn or my father?" Legolas asked.

"I am sure he got Estel's letters."

Legolas scowled. "I will have a word with Estel for speaking to all three of you and not speaking to me about this."

"I am sure he meant well." Erestor said soothingly.

"But tell me again." Legolas said. "Who will follow me? I doubt they will be many to accept my command or my rule, why would anyone-"

"If that is truly troubling you then you might wish to speak to your own people." Erestor said. "Word has it that your people love the house of Oropher dearly. I think you will find enough follower from your father's Halls to inhabit a small city." Legolas opened his mouth to refute him but then shut it again."

It was far too overwhelming, and Erestor sensed it. They shifted to lighter topics much to his relief. Later, he decided to take refuge with the elves who accompanied them. he spent ample enough time with them, telling them at length Aragorn's offer.

"But this is wonderful, my lord." One of them interrupted. "if the king so pleases, I will even follow you to this 'Ithilien forest'."

"It will be different for us to become acquainted with such trees." Another one said, true to his Silvan blood.

He stared at one soldier to another with growing bewilderment. Most of them handled swords, though some of them were archers. All of them were grinning in welcome at him. Most he even worked with over the years, or met with during a skirmish or before the beginning of a battle. With their eyes alight in anticipation, he soon realized Erestor was right; there were enough people in Eryn Lasgelen to follow him anywhere. That meant he would be expected to accept Aragorn's offer more than ever.

"I hate you all." Legolas muttered under his breath, making the elves' grin even wider as they understood the sentiment behind it.

oOo

_He was forced upright, arms hanging by the wrists on either side by two posts to which he was chained. His head was bowed and he could see the murky water below him, tinted red by his own blood. The room was barely lit, and he did not know if that was a blessing or a curse. A curse, perhaps, for he as an elf preferred light over darkness. And a blessings, perhaps, for he did not wish to see the other devices of torture in the room. _

_The stench was terrible, of burnt flesh, unwashed bodies and rotting meat. He could smell blood as well in the mixture. His throat was parched, but nausea rose within him from the smell. His stomach growled but he only clenched his teeth, fingers twisting around the chains that held in an effort of self-control. He will not be reduced to begging. He will not._

_He was not alone in the room. There was someone- or something- in the other corner of the room, though it was too dark to tell who it was. He could hear ragged breathing, and then sobbing._

_"Quiet, you little filth!" An orc roared. There was a crack of whip and a pained whimper. He grimaced at the sound. Orcs were not gentle, they whipped down to the bone. His own back bore statement for it._

_He heard footsteps behind and realized that his brief break was over. His head was violently pulled back by his hair to an angle that threatened to break his neck._

_"So," a voice breathed in his ear. "Have you reconsidered?"_

_The voice was low and silky, belonging to one of the Dark Men who was given the 'task' of breaking him down._

_"Tell me how to go through the stronghold walls."_

_"None can enter or leave the Halls without the King's leave." Dorián said, voice raspy from lack of water._

_He let go of his head and then walked around. Dorián's head whipped to the side at the force of slap._

He shot awake at the feel of a hand stroking his hair. He lunged forward, one hand reaching for his knife and the other reaching for his enemy. He clasped his hand around his enemy's throat, tightening it dangerously while raising his knife to finish him off… until he recognized who it was.

_"Good grief!"_ Dorián cried, instantly letting go and dropping his knife. Fion dropped to his knees, bending forward and raising one hand to rest over his neck as he gasped for air. "_Fion, are you alright?"_

_"You have quite the grip."_ Fion managed to say, finally looking up. Whatever humor was in those words were lost from the frighteningly hoarse voice. Berating himself mentally, he made his way to a pitcher and glass resting on a tray. He poured out water.

_"I thought I told you all to knock before entering my bedchamber." _Dorián said, fear making him lash out unreasonably. Then his brow furrowed and he growled, _"I thought I told my servants I am not to be disturbed." _He offered the glass to Fion who accepted it gratefully.

_"You will not blame your servants. They tried to stop me, it is true, but I was relentless."_

_"There is a reason why I do not allow anyone into my rooms." _

_"So I see." _Fion said, finishing the water. Then he paused, before reaching out a hand. _"Come here."_

Dorián stiffened. _"I do not want pity."_

_"Have I ever been the kind to offer you so?" _Fion asked softly. His eyes were kind. _"Come, boy. Indulge your former mentor once."_

He hesitated a moment longer before sitting down beside Fion on the bed. He was soaking in cold sweat, his shirt feeling cold against him. Fion placed an arm around his shoulders.

_"How long have you been having nightmares?"_

_"That is not your concern." _Dorián said stiffly.

_"It is very well my concern!" _Fion said sharply. _"You know full well the rumors about you circulating everywhere in the Halls! Are those rumors well founded? You wish to marry, and what if you wake up to grab your wife and hurt her? Worse, finish the move you used on me?" _Dorián closed his eyes briefly at the notion.

_"You are beginning to show cracks, boy. You need to either let go of your past or speak to someone- anyone- about what you have faced there. Otherwise you will drive everyone away-including Arodis."_

_"Are you telling me that I should stop pursuing Arodis?" _Dorián asked. Even as he said it, he felt his heart break a little at the notion. He truly loved her.

_"I never said that." _Fion said, embracing the younger elf around the shoulders. _"I just wanted to make sure you knew. Come, there is another reason why I am here." _Fion ran a critical eye over Dorián. _"But you might want to refresh yourself first."_

Dorián looked at him in curiosity, but complied. Once he washed his face and arms and changed his shirt, Fion led him out into his sitting room.

_"Arodis?" _Dorián exclaimed in disbelief. Sure enough, his betrothed was sitting wrapped in a cloak with lavender dress peeking through the folds. Her black hair was free.

_"Her mother is exemplary when it comes to helping you two meet. You are allowed to talk and whatever else but you will remain conservative. You have an hour. Try not to make any trouble for me, because I will be your chaperone." _Fion pulled a random book from Dorián's bookshelf and sitting comfortably on a seat.

oOo

Legolas kept a contact with his father for the next month. His original plan to leave as early as possible disappeared as he spent time with Erestor and Glorfindel making rough plans and gathering ideas for Aragorn's offer.

"This is all theoretical." Legolas said finally, straightening and leaning back with hands on his hips. "You know as well as I that I would have to see the site myself before finalizing any of this."

"It is still a good idea that we do make a plan first on how you even intend to handle all of this." Erestor replied.

"Well, father said some of Lady Galadriel's maids have lingered behind. They are well-versed in gardening and weaving, including the ellyth of our own realm. Also, I would need some of the female traders from all three realms. Ellyth seem to handle that much better than ellyn."

"Regarding security and reinforcements, we have glaive-holders and cavalry that we are most famous for," Erestor said. "And Lorien is well known for sentinels and Eryn Lasgelen for scouts, and of course your Rangers and Warriors. You will have no troubles when it comes to recuiting."

"I think it will be best to handle city plans by allowing all the master builders from all three realms from meeting together in Eryn Lasgelen." Legolas said. "We can make plans in that way."

"This will take some four or five years in building," Glorfindel put in. "then additional more years for people to shift to your city."

"What I do not understand is how to contribute to Gondor. The Dwarves mine in the Glittering Caves and provide wealth to Rohan, a portion of it going into their own treasury. But what of us? what can we offer to Gondor?"

For a moment all three ellyn were silent as they considered the map of Gondor between them. The room was silent save for the quiet scribe sitting in a corner and writing down all the points they were tossing back and forth.

"We can offer them knowledge." Glorfindel said. He waved a hand at the map. "we have healers aplenty, potters and sword-masters, horse-masters and such. We have farmers. We have scores of knowledge put away on shelves for all to read and yet we have read those books so many times over the ages that they will not be any more use to us as they will be to the Men."

Erestor frowned but Legolas jumped into the idea.

"You said so yourself that Lord Elrond took detailed notes of health and medicine. All of his findings are well-documented. What difference is there between Elves and Men when it comes to their bodies? Aside for some differences, much of the principle is still the same."

"I did not know you were a healer." Erestor said dryly.

"If you have someone as Bregon on long, dreary watches, you learn things." Legolas replied back in the same tone.

"What of King Thranduil? What does he say to the idea?"

"Well, aside from the fact that father is slightly insulted from having his only son and beloved child shifting to a completely different land, he is surprisingly taking it very well."

"You need to travel to Gondor before making any more decisions." Erestor decided. "If you wish, you can travel directly from here."

"No, thank you." Legolas said, laughing. "My father is still very much offended by the thought that Lord Elrond dared let me go after father specifically told me to go to Imladris and back for his counsel. To do so again will be hard to explain for both you and I. besides, I wish to discuss this with father personally before making a proper decision."

"You should leave soon then. When do you wish to depart?"

"If we have spoken all there is, then we shall leave tomorrow morning."

"There is simply one last thing." Erestor said. "I spoke to some of the inhabitants of the Homely House about whether or not they will follow you if you go to Ithilien forest-"

"You did what?" Legolas exclaimed. They heard a subtle snort of laughter from the scribe but bent as he was in his work, they ignored him.

"And they said they would be all too willing to be following you." Erestor continued calmly. Then he looked at Legolas, shook his head and laughed. "In fact," he added, sounding heavily amused. "When I made that offer, some others overheard and they said they too would be willing to go. I think, Legolas Thranduilion, you will be taking Imladris, Lorien and Eryn Lasgelen wherever you go."

Glorfindel laughed, making Legolas blush.

"I am hardly that famous-"

"Hardly that famous, he says!" Glorfindel crowed, laughing even harder. Erestor was openly grinning. "Why, you only just joined the Fellowship, shot a Nazgul's beast, befriended a dwarf, killed orcs, chased your friends' captors, fought wars with the men, stood at the very gates of doom, watched Estel's coronation-"

"Enough-" Legolas interrupted, cheeks tinged pink.

"Blushes just like his father too-" Erestor put in. Both of them started to laugh.

"If father ever finds out about what you just said-"

"King Thranduil has teased Elrond many times during the Second Age, and he took great delight in it, if I recall correctly. I do not think I am in much danger."

_~Tell that pompous nincompoop that the level of teasing I can dare to resort to is nothing what I did to Elrond.~ _Thranduil suddenly growled in Legolas' mind. _~And I never blush.~_

Legolas laughed.

**~S~**

**Author's Note:**

Not far now.

What do you think?

**Replies to reviews:**

Brightpath2: O.O'' for some reason, I never thought they were the chewing out type, both Erestor and Glorfindel. Considering the fact that Legolas taught both Elrond's sons archery and stealth in my story, I always thought that over the years the three of them (Legolas, Erestor and Glorinfel) learned to get along pretty well. I always liked Celeborn. :D

smiley: Aw, thank you!


	6. Strange Encounter

**Chapter 5**

"What happened while I was away?" Thranduil asked.

"Do you want to know about Himben or do you want to know about your kingdom?" Thorontur asked.

"Let us start with the easier one. Tell me about my kingdom."

"Well, you have requests from the Master of Lake-town on the wine barrels, as well as the permission to reuse your forest for hunting." Thranduil frowned. "King Bard wants wood for his mills, already treated," Thranduil's frown deepened. "And King Thorin wishes to speak to you on the hordes of crystal and precious stones we have yet to mine deep in our mountains. You also have a few petitions that require your attention-"

"I change my mind. Tell me about Himben instead."

Thorontur cast him an amused glance.

"A pain as usual, though greatly increasing as time flies. But," Thorontur lowered his voice, grabbing Thranduil's elbow and walking a little faster to escape Mithon's quiet, non-intrusive walk behind them. "You will be pleased to know Dorián has been resting a little better than before. I have personally spoken to Arodis and she is adamant that she will not leave Dorián's side. Himben fails to see this."

"And I will have to deal with it." Thranduil said gloomily.

"Just think of him like a little pest that is beneath you to squash and I believe you will be fine."

Thranduil snorted. Himben had always been overbearing, some of the times more so than others.

oOo

"Where's the king?" Hanon asked, puzzled as the council of few selected ellyn gathered at Thranduil's order one morning. Fion and others looked just as surprised. Usually, it was Thranduil who would already be waiting for them in the council room. Instead they found an empty room except for a scribe scribbling away in a corner.

"I spotted father and Thorontur down at the lower levels, outside the Weavers' Halls," Legolas said, sitting down on his seat beside his father's empty one. The Weavers' Halls were a collection of large halls full of looms, storage units for cloths and other things. The seamstresses worked there as well.

"Why in Arda would they go there?" Fion asked. Legolas shrugged.

"I do not know. But I suspect we will find out soon enough."

They had to wait another half an hour when Thranduil strode in holding a roll of parchment in his hand, followed by Thorontur.

"_I have just been thrown out of the Weavers' Halls, by your wife!" _Thranduil said in amusement, shaking the parchment at Hanon.

"_Good for her." _Fion murmured.

"_I heard that." _Thranduil added.

"_Nana threw you out?" _Legolas asked in surprise. Hanon's wife was one of the most influential ellyth in Thranduil's Halls. Hanon and Hanien had no children, but together they had looked after all the elflings who were enlisted as apprentices for the Rangers. She became well-loved, and when the elflings grew into full-fledged Rangers, they called her Naneth or 'Mother'. Some even shortened it and simply called her Nana.

"_Well, not precisely." _Thranduil said, sitting down at the head of the table. _"I came unannounced, and she and the other weavers shooed me out. Apparently they were working on a pattern they did not want me to know yet. Practically placed a hand right in front of my face!"_

"_I can tell you it was most amusing to watch." _Thorontur spoke up quietly, sitting down on his usual seat beside Thranduil. He stroked his chin with his fingers, smiling all the while as Thranduil mock-glared at him. Once everyone settled laughing, Hanon spoke up.

"_But why were you there in the first place?" _

"_I wanted to know if the larger looms were capable of travel should any of the weavers wish to take them to Ithilien if my son plans to lead the people there." _All of them ignored Legolas' grimace.

"_About that," _Legolas said. _"I was considering that perhaps some others will be better suited to this task than myself. There is Thorontur-"_

"_You will keep me out of this." _The advisor said immediately. _"I have done my duty by being a chief of my village before King Oropher came along and I have no wish to take up such a heavy burden upon myself again."_

"_My uncle, Lord Laegon-"_

"_Refuses to be of any part in this," _Thranduil interrupted.

"_There is Lord Iordor from Lorien, one of Lord Celeborn's well-known confidants."_

"_Who has claimed sea-longing and intends to leave by the end of this year."_

Legolas glared at them all and folded his arms in annoyance. Thranduil drummed his fingers on the table impatiently. He had intended to address this issue later but now he would have to speak of it first.

"_Do not think we have placed you in this position without accessing you first. We have thought well over it, and we agree that you are more than capable in managing your own lands." _Thranduil said. Legolas muttered an incoherent reply that no one heard. Thranduil, on the other hand, was seated most close to his son and could not refrain a smile. _"Oh, I am sure the people will follow you."_

"_Legolas," _Fion said softly, seated across Legolas. _"You will be fine."_

"_You had better do well." _Thranduil spoke up, unable to help himself. _"I will not have my son displaying himself poorly and make a laughing stock out of himself."_

"_Of course, father. I knew I could count on you for your words of encouragement." _Legolas said, voice dripping in sarcasm. The ellon standing beside him thumped him good-naturedly on his back.

"_You are you father's son." _The ellon soothed. _"You have learned much standing by his side throughout his meetings. You should not have a problem stepping into such shoes."_

"_I appreciate the confidence, Anastor." _He mumbled. Then he visibly brightened. _"Father, since you are so keen to provide your aid, do you not think I would have need of reliable advisors. Anastor, for example-"_

"_No," _Thranduil said flatly. _"Anastor stays, even if I have to tie him up in a sack to do so." _The council laughed at the king's reply that shamelessly hinted that Thranduil would fight tooth and nail to keep Anastor. Even-headed and calm, Anastor exuded wisdom in his silence and was able to smooth over any touchy topics or offer a compromise… a valuable trait when it comes to improving ties with other lands. The ellon had not only been a father, but also a grandfather and a great-grandfather.

"_Fine," _Legolas relented. _"I will take on this position as the new lord."_

Others seemed satisfied by the statement but Thranduil looked at his son suspiciously. Legolas kept his gaze on the table. Something did not sit well with him. His son never seemed so… obedient.

"_Right then," _Thranduil said, looking around. "_I have reason for calling Head Commander of Rangers, the Head Commander of Warriors, and the Field Commander. We have to discuss some of our defenses and perhaps renew our plans on defending our borders…"_

Three days later, he soon realized just what did not sit well with him about his son.

He glared down at the list of names in his hands, and then shifted his glare at his son sitting across the desk of his personal study. Legolas only smiled wider, fingers of both hands laced together on his lap as he leaned back and relaxed in his chair. His lips twitched ever so slightly, as if wanting to grin but have kept a hold on himself. Which was just as well, Thranduil thought sourly. His son managed to pay him back in kind, and quite splendidly as well.

The list of names in his hands was of the people Legolas had spoken to and were willing to follow him. Majority of these names were of the elves he himself trusted and placed on high positions. He glanced over the names and his frown deepened when he found another familiar name on it. He placed the list with a little more force than necessary on the desk and roared, _"Galion!"_

His voice echoed through his open door all the way to his sitting rooms where he was sure Galion was supervising the servants to remove the rugs and throws for winter and ready it for summer. Legolas had the gall to laugh softly.

Galion appeared at the door, dressed red and brown garments, his golden hair braided away from his face. _"You called for me, my lord?" _The butler was well-known for tidying up after the king without much trouble. It was why he was entrusted with Thranduil's quarters for the ability of placing everything precisely where Thranduil wanted them without Thranduil ever voicing his preferences.

"_Indeed. As your king I will order you to stay here in these Halls until I address you otherwise. Should you ever leave without permission, you may join Lord Anastor in a sack in one of my cells." _Thranduil ordered. Legolas shifted in his seat and threw Galion a grin.

"_But father," _Legolas said, shifting again to face the king. _"I thought that you said that your people are free to do as they will. It would not do well for you to back on your word. After all," _Legoals continued, the picture of perfect innocence settling on his features. _"It would be terrible if rumors would start to spread that you do not honor your word."_

Thranduil sputtered, glancing first at Legolas' innocent-looking face that was obviously not laughing at him then looking at Galion was studiously studying the tapestry hanging behind Thranduil's seat.

"_Well played," _Thranduil said gingerly. He took the names back in his hand. "_Very well played." _He looked at Galion and said, _"Dismissed." _He noticed how Galion smiled to himself just as he stepped out of his study. Now Legolas laughed hard. He straightened and got up from his chair, laughing all the while as he embraced his father.

"_Oh, father." _He said fondly. _"You cannot deny it was well-deserved."_

"_Deny it!" _Thranduil said laughing. _"I cannot deny it at all. This," _he swept a hand over the list, _"this is exemplary. You have a gift of swaying so many people to your cause in so little a time."_

"_Well, I have learned from the best." _Legolas said smoothly, redirecting the compliment back to his father.

"_Do not think I will not let you get away so easily."_ Thranduil warned him. "_I will make sure you will pay."_

"_Considering I am your son,"_ Legolas said, flashing a cheeky grin. _"I know for sure you will."_

oOo

"I have just had a thought." Thranduil said gravely. Thorontur looked up from where he was standing, petition papers in hand with a raised eyebrow. Then he resumed to his tasks. "Wouldn't you want to know what I am thinking?"

"No, but I assume you will tell me anyway." Thorontur replied, not bothering to look up.

"I just realized that Legolas would need a head scholar with him the same way all other realms do." Thranduil said. "But I would hate to remove Himben, Erestor and the others from their positions."

"Indeed. Who do you have in mind?"

"Well," Thranduil said solemnly, leaning forward and placing his elbows on his table. Raising his hands and clasping them, he placed them just in front of his lips. "After giving it much thought and considering, was considering Himben's daughter for the task. As her father had been with the utmost knowledge, I am sure he passed it on to his daughter." Thranduil said, not changing his expression as Thorontur threw him a look of utter disbelief.

"Lady Arodis?" Thorontur asked.

"I believe Himben has only one daughter." Thranduil said mildly.

"But-but-" Thorontur faltered, catching on quickly. The advisor scowled. "You are just as worse as the Rangers."

"I am not!" Thranduil sounded offended. "I am much worse when I place my mind to it."

"Thranduil," Thorontur said sternly, dropping the titles. "You will take no sides in this matter or so help me I will-"

"Your own wife is taking sides in this matter."

"That is a domestic issue." Thorontur retorted.

"Hardly domestic when the entire female population in the court is evading us at every turn and we accidently find the couple cooped up somewhere." Thranduil shot back.

Thorontur groaned, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the desk, fingers rubbing his temples wearily. "Valar deliver me from the line of Oropher." He muttered. "Nuisance, both them and their sire."

"Now, now, my father is not to blame."

"Oh, you have no idea how much he loved to play the same form of games as you and your son do."

Thranduil nearly dropped his quill.

"Father never did such sort of things." Oropher was cool, calm and quiet. he rarely ever showed much emotion, at least not after he became king. before that time, Thranduil's mother was still alive and Oropher behaved much differently, like a young groom with his bride. But then the world changed and shifted and an indescribable sadness entered his father's eyes, dulling him and yet smoothening over any roughness or wild passions of youth, molding him into a king.

"Well, how did you think you found yourself in front of Lady Arodien's home just before you proposed to her?"

Thranduil could only sputter.

oOo

"That is a terrible color of silver." Legolas stated, following the elleth around. Berethil threw an annoyed look over her shoulder.

"Ellyn!" She huffed, picking up another bolt of cloth and placing it in Legolas' already full arms. "No sense of imagination and certainly lacking in taste!"

"Naneth, is all of this really necessary?"

"What, do you wish to see Arodis enter her new home with nothing but old clothes and the bed sheets meant for a single bed?"

"Well, I didn't mean-"

"Of course, you didn't." Berethil picked up another bolt of sheer golden cloth and placed it in Legolas' arms. This one was particularly heavy and Legolas' knees buckled at the unexpected weight. "Come along, these bolts will not walk by themselves."

"Pity," Legolas muttered under his breath.

She led him through a wide corridor, the open doors on either side letting him glimpses of ellyth sitting together, chattering as they worked. She ushered him into one of the lesser crowded rooms and waved him towards a table where he dropped the bolts with a relieved sigh.

Legolas picked up the offensive silver cloth that he complained of. It was not on a bolt as the rest of the cloth. Instead the silver silk was folded, or at least it was before Berethil unceremoniously threw it in his arms. It was a lot of cloth, enough to make a simple gown from. Berethil studied it for a moment before turning her intention to the sheer golden cloth. She tugged the silver silk and placed it on the golden one.

"That looks more terrible." Legolas could not help but speak up.

"You are right." Berethil said slowly. She shook her head and removed the golden bolt from her table.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking for the right colors for Arodis' wedding dress," Berethil murmured, attention still on the cloth.

"You do realize that they want a peaceful and a quiet ceremony?"

"Well, that is hardly fair. It is going to be our first wedding after the War."

"Second," Legolas corrected. "Arwen married first."

"I meant," 'Naneth' said, casting a chiding look at the elf. "In our forest. Everyone is excited and it does not help matters when you and your friend are the only ones left of your generation to remain unwed. Speaking of which, when are you-"

"Not you too," Legolas grumbled.

"You are going to be all alone after your friend gets married and you need something to occupy yourself with."

"And that fits with marriage how?"

He ducked to miss the bolt aimed to hit his head. Berethil possessed good speed for a weaver.

"Impudence." Berethil muttered. "Always insolent. Always talking back. Always avoiding to answer the questions-" Legolas laughed and patted her arm to calm her rising ire.

"When I get married, I will make sure you are there to fuss over my future bride." Legolas said.

"Humph. I hope so, child." She caressed a few stray strands escaping his braids before getting back to work.

"Are you punishing yourself?"

Legolas looked up at the unexpected question.

"Why do you ask?"

"It was the fault of your father and your grandfather-"

"It was not their fault!" Legolas retorted.

"It was." Berethil said softly. "And at the time, even you said so."

Legolas said nothing.

"Always you were a faithful child. You stood by your grandfather's side even though you did not agree with him when he took upon himself to lead the first charge early. And when your grandfather passed beyond Arda, you stood by your father's side, a faithful son, a loving child, even when your mother sailed and left you behind. I am so proud of you, but do not punish yourself for something that had not been in your control at the time."

He said nothing, and Berethil only studied him for a moment before turning away and folding the silver cloth again.

"Whenever I think about it, I can only blame myself further." Legolas replied.

"Maybe when she thinks of it, she also blames herself." Berethil said.

Their conversation was interrupted when a courier entered the room, searching.

"My lord," the ellon said, spotting Legolas. "There are guests from Lorien who wish to speak to you."

"I will be there shortly." Legolas replied.

"Forgive me, but the king says immediately."

Legolas glanced at him in surprise then remembered suddenly that his father did say something about the master builders' due arrival.

"Of course, I am coming." Legolas said, squeezing the elleth's shoulder in parting before leaving.

He was led down to one of the waiting rooms, where petitioners normally waited to be called.

"Prince Legolas," the messenger announced when he opened the door and stepped away.

The room was well-furnished and the elves sitting their immediately stood up. He spotted two elves with distinctive Noldorin features, two others who looked more Silvan. The Noldorin elves were dressed more along Imladris finery, of vivid colors of reds, browns, yellows. They were tall, broad-shouldered, with sharp facial features that made them look stern. The Silvan elves were silver-haired, with leaner figures/

"Well met," One of the Noldorin said first, reaching forward and clasping hands with Legolas. "May I ask what your name is?"

"They call me Noruil." He answered. "I lead the builders back home in my Imladris. This is my friend and he works beside me, Thalion." He was introduced to others as well.

"So tell me what can you offer me?" Legolas said.

"It depends on the land, my lord." Thalion answered. "Flat lands are easier to make houses of stone, but the lands nearer to the mountains suit making underground homes-"

"Though I cannot imagine living in a mountain cave," Noruil said dryly. He waved his hand around him, gesturing at the stone walls. "King Thranduil's halls are a beauty and a perfect gem here, but for us who have always breathed the free valley air, it will be difficult for us."

"Nor can we wish to live in a such a place." Halvor spoke up quietly. The Lothlorien elf was dressed in dull silver garments, callused hands resting on his knees.

"The question, in fact, is what do you desire, my lord? What form do you wish your city to take?"

"You will find my imagination wild, and perhaps you will not be able to follow it." Legolas warned, a bit ruefully. "I am no builder."

"Tell us," Halvor said, straightening at the matter of his trade. "And we will decide for ourselves."

"I do not wish my people to be uncomfortable when they come to live under my rule. Nor do I wish them to feel out of place and alone, lost without the memories of their home. So I want all you to bring in all your ideas. I want everything, a part of culture and architecture from each one of you and let it be mixed together. We are all different," Legolas smiled a little. There were Silvan, Noldorin and Sindarin sitting with him, and then there was he himself. Legolas was of mixed blood, coming from a Sindarin father and a Silvan mother. "So when our race comes together, I wish we bring something with us."

"Well it does not lack poetry." Noruil said, a lace of amusement present in his tone. "But I believe it can be possible. Though it will need careful planning."

"And we will need to see the lands ourselves." Halvor said. He possessed a very low voice, he noted. He had to strain to hear him. "There can be no real city for a dream land."

"That is why you will all be traveling with me." Legolas said. "I leave at the end of this week, three days away, for Minas Tirith where I will meet King Elessar. Come with me that I may also show you the lands once I discussed them with him."

"That will suit us well." Noruil replied. "we had already intending to request accompanying you, my lord, but to see you already plan ahead relieves me greatly." The Noldo tilted his head to a side, studying him. "I must confess I was not too keen to serve under you when I first heard. Rumors of your mischiefs are more widespread, my lord. But I now see that perhaps not everything are true. Maybe a time might come that I would be willing to stay with you."

To that, Legolas knew no reply. But one thing he was now sure of, not every elf would be so willing to follow him.

oOo

Thranduil managed to avenge himself for his son's antics later.

"Well-played, father." Legolas said, feeling a bit miserable as he regarded the number of elves in the courtyard, meant to travel with him. And every one of them was needed. They had a set of fifteen guards, along with the six master builders accompanying them. he watch with the resignation as the pack horses were lined towards the gates, realizing that it would be a slow going.

"Are fifteen guards really necessary?" Legolas asked. He looked around just in time to see his father scowl, making him regret his question immediately.

"Aye, and I was planning on sending more. So you will take what I give you and you will like it." Thranduil said sternly. Legolas sighed in defeat.

"Yes, father."

Thranduil laughed and clapped Legolas on his shoulder.

"Well, look at this way. You have no reason to stay here and help Dorián on organizing his things for his wedding-" Legolas gave a violent shudder at the thought. "So while you are gone, I will handle Himben and the rest. It could have been worse."

"Aye, and at least you have taken your share of revenge for what I did to you."

"Oh, no, my son, I have not even started."

Legolas paled. Sobering, Thranduil said, "Legolas, this will be tough for you. Remember what I have told you and if something unexpected happens then use your knowledge to resolve what matters are at hand."

Thorontur came up to them.

"The guards say that they are ready. Noruil and the others have joined them."

Thranduil pulled his son in an embrace.

"Father, you are not going to cry, are you?" Legolas asked warily, his voice muffled in his father's shirt. Immediately the heartfelt embrace turned into a light cuff over Legolas' ears.

"I should make you work in the kitchens for your cheek, boy." Thranduil said gruffly. "Take care of yourself and try not to frighten your hosts with appalling antics."

"I promise to wear my clothes before I leave my room and to eat with my mouth closed." Legolas said solemnly as he raised his right hand for an oath. That tore a surprised laugh from Thranduil.

"Get you gone!" Thranduil said, pulling Legolas close one more time with an arm around his shoulders before releasing him.

"Farewell, father."

"Farewell, my son."

Legolas said his farewell to Thorontur and raced down to the head of the line. Dorián, Nimon, Hanon and Fion were already standing by Legolas' Rohirric gelding, Arod. He exchanged quick words with them before mounting his horse.

"So the fledgling leaves the nest." Thorontur said, standing beside Thranduil. The advisor glanced once at the elf standing beside him and decided the king looked more like a nervous father than a king. Thranduil sighed, relaxing his posture, "He left the nest long ago."

"He will be fine." Thorontur said.

"I know. That is why we chose him."

oOo

They spent nearly a week on the road to reach the borders of Gondor. They had swift horses, and they took rest days in between. Once they would reach the border, Legolas intended to go on a quick gallop to reach Minas Tirith. The master builders did not complain in the ride, preferring to stay amongst themselves and exchange ideas. His father was right; the project had appeal and hence the reason for their willingness.

Once they entered Gondor, Legolas decided to take refuge in an inn in a town coming in their way. They needed to replenish their supplies, and it would do well for the horses to have a good place to stay. The clouds were gathering and he did not wish to deprive their faithful mounts of a shelter when it was possible.

Asking for rooms was easy, in spite of the slacken jaw of the awestruck innkeeper. Legolas bit back an amused smile as the innkeeper's wife bustled about, providing them with piping hot food and taking extra care to make sure their rooms were comfortable and clean.

"_I wouldn't mind staying here if this is the treatment we will get, my lord."_ One of the guards murmured to him, making Legolas grin as they were treated hospitably.

"_I doubt all of them are like this."_ Legolas replied, laughing. They were insisted upon to stay longer than just one night but Legolas refused. And in spite of his company's protests, he made sure his room was shared just like the others, saying it was a necessity.

Legolas woke up at first light. A quick glance around the room should his fellow elves fast asleep. Two guards slept by the door out of sheer habit, and Noruil had taken a floor mattress in front of the fire. He slipped out quietly, disappearing behind the changing screens to wash his face and arms and change his clothes. Peeking out, he had not yet woken any of them, so he left by the door, arming himself with both his bow and his dual knives.

"Awake already, dearie?" The middle-aged inn-keeper's wife said as she wiped the counters with a dirty cloth. "Shall I bring up some food for ya?"

"Not yet, my lady." Legolas answered. It amused and bewildered him to no end to be addressed by men and women who were in looks older than him as if he were a youth just reaching his majority. But he guessed his youth-like features invoked some sort of maternal or paternal instincts in such people. "I will just go and see to the horses."

When he returned from seeing the horses were well-rested and seen to, he found the others awake. After a short meal, they decided to go down to the markets and replenish their supplies.

"Take care of yourself, dearies!" The woman said, fluttering her hands in anxiety. "There are folks about, and they are new to this town. Might not be friendly!"

Legolas only smiled as he wanted through the door of the inn.

_"I have great-grandchildren older than you." _A guard muttered under his breath.

"_I think she is just worried." _Legolas said, soothing any pricked pride.

They went down the markets, dividing their errands. Legolas took some of his guards with him and Noruil decided to accompany him. They purchased their wares before a powerful voice wafted over to them. Curiosity getting the better of them, he followed it.

"Come and join us, my friends!" The man called, spreading out his arms in invitation. All around him, his companions stood in a fashion that made them seem as people out of a legend. "Take our path! Join our faith! In it there is your salvation."

The crowd parted as Legolas and his guards walked through. People whispered among themselves when they realized the person walking among them was an elf, his guards making him one of higher rank. Legolas glanced around. these people were simple folk, never expecting much from life, unchained from the duties and games of Gondorian court, and never expecting more than the usual; live, eat, have children.

It made them gullible.

"In darkness, there is light. In silence, there is understanding. In doom, comes salvation."

The words troubled him. He had heard of religious cults, most were harmless. He had come across some himself back in the Second Age, but he knew it never boded well for the villages. They would suck out their gold and precious gems like a leech upon an open wound. In some of the darker cults, they would lose their young girls as well.

Then suddenly the leader's eyes fell on Legolas. he returned his gaze. The leader looked average. His skin was tanned, and he was heavily set with grey eyes and black hair. He was clean shaved and looked to be somewhere in his late forties. But his eyes…. They followed him carefully. Seeing something take their leader's attention, his followers also turned their heads.

They stared at them for so long that Legolas was starting to feel uncomfortable. The way their eyes rested upon their faces seemed to resemble that of hungry beasts looking upon their prey. Their gaze lingered upon them, memorizing them that Legolas was just about to push some of his company away when they finally turned and walked away. Only their leader threw a backward glance before vanishing into the crowd. He started when he felt a hand clamp around his wrist. He turned to see it was Noruil.

"Come, my lord." Noruil said quietly. "We should go."

**~S~**

**Author's Note:**

Smiley- Thanks. :D You were ill? Are you ok now?


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